Friends and Lovers
by Storywriter55
Summary: Domestic goings-on continue in the Ellis-Caffrey home while a recovery goes belly-up at Sterling Bosch. Part of the Milestones series.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

16.11 years

'… and remember to comment on the artist's use of color and light' Neal said as he glanced at the clock, noticing it was already five minutes to ten

'So, same time next week' he said, wrapping things up and beginning to gather his things

Neal had been teaching Art History at NYU for the past year, hoping to inspire his young charges through the works of the masters. This particular class was on French Impressionism, Neal's favorite period and although the course was of a theoretical nature, most of his students were art history majors and budding artists, struggling to make a living.

Of course, teaching was just a small part of what occupied Neal's time these days. He'd recently left his job as an art authenticator at Finch and Johns, something he'd been doing since before Liam was even born. After years of scrimping and saving, Neal and Sara had recently opened an art gallery in Manhattan, a project which had been in the works for a couple of years (although they'd been saving up for much longer than that).

The past six months had been devoted almost exclusively to renovating the space and getting the gallery ready for its opening. The mission of the Raphaël Gallery was to challenge the status quo and expose the public to the many innovative styles out there while making art accessible to all. On the top floor, Neal had set up some of his own works and several pieces from Hope's collection which continued to grow and thrive. On the first floor, he displayed the works of some of his most promising students and he loved the fact that he could contribute in some small way to giving them the exposure they so richly deserved. The space was rounded out by a classroom at the back where he gave art appreciation courses with Hope, something he loved collaborating on with his daughter.

'Mr. Caffrey?' a soft voice was heard

Years ago, Neal would have cringed at being called 'mister' anything, but it was certainly fitting in this setting, considering most of these students were young enough to be his kids. It wasn't lost on Neal that a couple of the young girls gazed at him all though class with stars in their eyes and he was very conscious of the importance of keeping that appropriate distance between teacher and student.

'Yes, Melanie' he responded as he turned to speak to the pretty blond girl who usually sat in the front row with a dreamy look in her eyes

'Can Chloe and I do the project together?' she asked, her voice soft and playful as she pointed to her friend nearby

'You _will _have an opportunity to work on a group project later in the semester but for now, I want you to work individually so you can have a chance to fully explore the works of the artist you've chosen to study. Have you decided who you'd like to research?' he asked, in full teacher mode

She shrugged; Melanie Holt was a psychology major, rounding out her studies with a couple of classes in art history just to fill in the gaps. The art students were usually much more motivated to work and Neal had to be very patient with students like Melanie who didn't have that same level of commitment to the world of art.

'In your case, I would suggest you go with one of the greats – maybe Paul Gauguin or Claude Monet. Why don't you do a bit of research this week and we can talk about it after class next time' he suggested

'Alright' she said softly giving him a sweet smile 'Some of us are going to the student common for a beer. Would you like to come?'

'Thanks, Melanie. But my wife will be waiting up for me' Neal said, accent on the 'wife'

'Alright then, goodnight' she said, her voice languid

'Goodnight' he answered rolling his eyes and gathering up his notes

WCWCWC

'She wants to have alcohol at the party' Sara said into the phone as she lay in bed

'Well, she _is _turning 17, Sara' answered Emily, miles away in Chicago

Emily Ellis-Foster had been back in her sister's life for just a few months now but it was as if they'd never been apart. Emily had recently spent the first Christmas in over 35 years with her sister and her family and ever since then, they'd been on the phone practically every night catching up on all that time spent apart.

'Yeah, but we have a responsibility to the parents of the other kids' said Sara as she turned over and lazily ruffled Raffie's fur

The dog let out a sigh. Technically, he wasn't allowed on the bed but when Neal wasn't around, he somehow knew he could sneak up for a quick cuddle – who could have predicted that Sara Ellis would ever have a soft spot for a 65 pound ball of fur.

'Look, from what I can see, Hope has never given you a single worry where that's concerned. Why don't you just lay down certain rules and keep an eye on things on the night of the party' Emily said from the other side of the country

'That's just it. She wants us to leave the house during the party' answered Sara

'Well, you don't have to give her everything she wants; that's up to you guys' responded Emily, herself having helped raise her step-daughter through those awkward teenage years

'I suppose' Sara said as she turned on the bed wishing Neal was home already

She let out a long sigh; when it came to teenagers, life was not always black and white. Hope had always been a very responsible and level-headed kid, never giving them a day of worry. She'd asked if she could host a birthday party at home and in the interest of full disclosure, she'd said that people would probably be bringing alcohol.

'You know, whether you give the green light or not, some kid will definitely smuggle in some booze – they can be very creative you know. Isn't it best that Hope's bringing it up now?' asked Emily, full of 'big sister' wisdom

'I guess...' Sara said, her voice trailing

She heard the front door open in the distance and shooed Raffie off the bed – Neal hated having dog hair on his clothes.

'Look, Neal's home. Can we talk tomorrow?' she asked her sister

'Sure. Love you' Emily answered

'Love _you_' echoed Sara with a smile

Neal had been offering to look for her sister for years and Sara had steadfastly refused for fear that she might find out Emily had died sometime over the 35 year span they'd been apart. But Neal had gone against her wishes, enlisting Peter's help and although it had taken several months and some creative detective work, they'd finally located Emily safe and sound and living in Europe. Sara and Emily had been reunited just in time for the holidays and although Sara had been very angry with Neal at first, now that she had her sister back in her life, she couldn't be happier and she wondered why she'd fought her husband on this for all those years.

'Hey' Neal said as he ambled in, letting himself fall on the edge of the bed

He picked at some stray fur on the bedspread and gave Sara a look of exasperation.

'Really Sara?' he whined by way of reprimand

She shrugged innocently.

Neal Caffrey was still a strong, vigorous man but lately, at the age of 52, he had noticed that his energy was beginning to wane. Maybe, it was the 16 hour days he was putting in between teaching and running the gallery. The Raphaël had only been open for a few weeks and although he had hired one of his art students to help with the running of the gallery, he was still there most of the time making sure things were exactly as he wanted them. He and Hope were also giving art appreciation classes at the gallery and Hope was teaching an introductory course in oil painting for kids six to twelve years old. They had set up a small teaching area in the back of the store for classes and Neal was still getting the logistics of all that worked out.

'You look absolutely exhausted' said Sara as she kneeled behind him on the bed, beginning to knead his tense shoulders

'Ahhh! That feels amazing' answered Neal as he let himself melt into her touch

'You're not going to make it to next week if you keep burning the candle at both ends' she said, a touch of worry in her voice

'I'm fine. I just need to get through the next little while' he said, leaning down to take off his shoes

'Well, I told you – if you need me to take some time off work to help at the gallery...' Sara began

'No, no. It's fine. I think Cameron's getting the hang of things and when he's fully trained, I'll be able to leave the place in his hands more often' Neal said as he rose again to remove the rest of his clothes

Cameron Armstrong was one of Neal's best students and an amazing artist. Neal had taken him under his wing and he'd offered him some work at the gallery to help him finance his studies. At the age of 20, he was very far from home and family and he was trying to go to school and make a bit of money on the side to supplement the meagre contribution his parents were able to make to subsidize his living arrangements. Neal had instantly taken a liking to the young man and had showcased some of his work at the gallery at its opening in January. He hoped he could make a difference in this young artist's life and he fancied himself a mentor for the young man who was so far away from home.

Neal returned from brushing his teeth and pulled on a pair of sleep pants as Sara admired his form. He still looked amazing; she reluctantly pushed the thought away. Neal was in no shape to engage in extracurricular activities after such a long day of work. He fell into the bed, opening up his arms to her for their usual de-brief of the day. Lately, he'd been out of the loop as far as the kids were concerned and he didn't like that feeling at all.

'So, how was Liam's game?' he asked

Liam Caffrey, age 12, was the star of the Ridgemont Junior High's basketball team and Neal had regretfully missed his last two games – something he absolutely hated to do. Neal took a lot of interest and pride in his children's accomplishments whether it was Hope's art or Liam's sports activities.

'They won. Liam got twelve points' she said, proudly

Sara was desperately hopeless when it came to sports despite having an athlete living under her roof. Although she made an effort, she could never get the rules or terminology right and she counted on Neal to explain things (over and over again!)

'Okay...' Neal said, slowly, taking a deep breath 'Now do you mean six baskets or twelve baskets?' he asked

'Twelve baskets!' she exclaimed, as if it were a no-brainer

'Honey...' Neal began with false patience '...how many times have we talked about this?'

Sara looked over at him with a frown – he could be so patronizing at times.

'Each basket is worth two points. That means he had a 24 point game' he explained

'Whatever' she answered, visibly annoyed 'Come to the game next time if you want details'

Neal smiled in the dark and drew her in closer in an attempt at making amends. He turned and placed a slow, lingering kiss on her neck and Sara pulled away in mock annoyance, finally giving in as he gently tickled her.

'And here I thought you were tired...' she said, giggling

'Not that tired' he exclaimed

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sara Ellis sat at her desk at Sterling Bosch going over the plan for the recovery of a marble medallion by American sculptor Margaret Foley. The beautiful rendition of a woman, sculpted in stone, had been nicked from the High Museum of Art in Atlanta over three years before and had gone underground. Recently, thanks to a lead from Mozzie, Sara had heard that the piece had resurfaced and was about to be fenced through a local guy to a rich private collector in Manhattan.

Lydia Jordan sat with Sara, going over the details of the shakedown. Lydia had been working on Sara's team for about eight years and she was definitely her top investigator. She'd begun working at Sterling Bosch at the tender age of 23 and Sara had seen something special in the young woman, taking her under her wing and teaching her the ropes. Now, Sara had to regretfully admit that Lydia was just as capable of delivering the goods as she'd _ever _been.

'Are you sure you want to do this one?' Sara asked, concerned

Lydia was eight months pregnant and was still going strong and Sara had begun to wonder lately if it was safe to send her on these recoveries. The woman was fearless – nothing could stop her – and except for a botched recovery two years before, where she had suffered a minor thump on the head, she was unstoppable. But Sara remembered how she'd felt when she'd first gotten pregnant with Hope – that vulnerability which had appeared out of nowhere and the sudden realization that she had to look out for someone other than herself.

'I'll be fine. Joe is coming with me' Lydia responded, referring to one of their interns

Sara just looked on with worry.

'Sara, it's fine. It's happening in a bar on the Lower West Side, not in some dark alley' Lydia responded, fearless as always

Sara let out a long sigh. She was responsible for the safety of the members of her team and although their recovery rate was the highest of all the teams at SB, nothing was worth putting one of her staff in danger.

'So, my source says it's all going down next Wednesday night at around 8:00. Are you good with that?' she finally asked

'Sam can make his own dinner for once' Lydia said, laughing

Sam Jordan had come into the young woman's life four years before and after a whirlwind romance, they had married. He was a great guy and he reminded Sara of Neal in a lot of ways: rugged, handsome and very much in love with his wife. Now, they were expecting their first baby and Sara was anxious to be there, supporting Lydia with the challenges of becoming a first-time mom. The skills involved had not come easily for Sara and she suspected Lydia had the same fears and concerns she'd had back when Hope was born.

The couples had socialized on a few occasions over the years and although Sara was conscious of not favoring one member of her team over the others, she'd fallen under the young couple's charm and the newlyweds had turned to Neal and Sara for advice on a couple of occasions.

'Look, why don't you and Sam come over for dinner tomorrow night? Neal's been talking about making his famous spaghetti bolognaise' Sara offered on the spur of the moment

There wouldn't be quite as many opportunities for the foursome to socialize once the baby arrived and she looked forward to having a 'couples night' with Sam and Lydia.

'Sure, I'll check with Sam but that sounds great!' said Lydia

They wrapped things up; it was already four o'clock on a Friday and time to get an early start on the weekend. Sara's team worked long hours and Fridays were sacred; Sara insisted that everyone leave work at a decent hour and make it home to their loved ones. She hadn't always felt that way; there was a time when she easily worked an 80 hour week – but that seemed like eons ago and she didn't miss the period in her life when work had been the only thing she'd had to look forward to.

She made it home to find Neal puttering in the kitchen and the kids nowhere in sight. Hope was out with friends for the evening and Liam was up in his room – probably glued to his computer.

'Hi!' said Neal, looking much more energetic than the night before

'I thought you'd be at the gallery!' Sara said as she walked over to give her husband a kiss

'Naw, things were quiet and Cameron insisted he was fine until closing time' he said, returning to whatever he was concocting on the stove top

'Good for you, Caffrey!' she said as she made her way to the staircase to go change her clothes 'So, is it just the two of us for dinner?'

'No, Liam's eating with us' he answered

For years, the Caffreys had dinner out on Friday nights; it was a ritual they'd had since Hope was about two years old. But lately, the kids had activities of their own and didn't always want to go out to dinner with mom and dad so the long-standing tradition had slowly slipped away, to Sara's chagrin.

'Oh, by the way, I invited Lydia and Sam over for dinner tomorrow night. Is that okay?' she asked, as an afterthought

'Sure! Sounds like fun. I haven't seen Sam in a while' he responded with a smile

'Oh, and I kind of promised Lydia some spaghetti bolognaise' she yelled, half-way up the stairs

Neal rolled his eyes. He knew that, in fact, that was one of Sara's favorites.

WCWCWC

The weather was great Saturday morning as Neal made his way to meet Peter Burke for brunch at their regular spot in Brooklyn. It was mid-March and there hadn't been any snow for a few weeks – everyone was hoping for an early spring.

Ever since the gallery opening in late January, Neal had only seen Peter twice – a far cry from their usual routine where they'd get together alone or with their wives, at least once a week. Peter was feeling the loss – he'd officially retired just before Christmas and although he continued to do some work with the White Collar division on some of the cases he'd left hanging, he was finding the slower pace a challenge and he missed spending time with Neal.

Neal had spent most of the morning at the gallery, going over things with Cameron. Saturdays were usually busier and Hope had agreed to step in for a couple of hours and lend a hand while Neal got together with Peter. Although he was incredibly busy, Neal was also feeling disconnected from his ex-partner and he didn't like the feeling one little bit. He walked briskly from the parking lot to the restaurant, spotting Peter at a table sipping coffee.

'Hey' Neal called out 'Sorry I'm late'

Lately, he seemed to be saying that a lot – to Peter, to Sara, to his kids. Maybe it was time to slow down just a little. Peter was looking relaxed, maybe too relaxed. Neal was used to seeing Peter Burke in full FBI mode but lately he'd noticed Peter looking much more laid back down to the way he dressed – casually.

'I just got here myself' Peter said with a smile 'I ordered for us'

'Thanks. I should really watch what I'm eating more' said Neal, rubbing his stomach for emphasis

Peter gave him a frown – Neal still looked amazing, for any age.

'How's it going at the gallery?' Peter asked as Neal settled in across from him

'Good, busy - which is great. All the publicity we got with the opening has really paid off' said Neal

'You sure you're taking care of yourself?' Peter asked, noticing the usually relaxed Neal Caffrey was missing in action

'I don't have time for that right now' Neal admitted as he sipped on his coffee 'Is this decaf?'

'Yes, it's decaf' said Peter, laughing

Neal nodded. He'd been feeling the effects of too much caffeine lately and he'd switched to the low grade stuff.

'Well, I finally took your advice and I offered Cameron a job. He's been doing about twenty hours a week for me which really helps. You know, with the teaching and everything... and just to add to the confusion, Finch and Johns asked me to come in last week to authenticate a piece they'd recovered' he said, slightly breathless

'Sounds like you've got an awful lot on your plate' commented Peter

Neal shrugged.

'I've dreamed of having my own gallery for a long time and I want to be there to make sure it takes off properly. In a few months, I'll be able to pull back a little' he answered

Peter nodded before moving on to the next subject. He wanted to take advantage of this precious time with Neal.

'So, El wants me to ask you what Hope wants for her birthday' he asked just as their food arrived

'Oh, my God! That's in two weeks!' Neal said, suddenly realizing that his first-born's birthday was right around the corner

'I better get on that. I've been kind of out the loop lately' Neal admitted 'Maybe El can call Sara and ask her; she might have a better idea' he admitted

'How's everyone at White Collar?' Neal asked, changing the subject

Suddenly, Peter's face became more animated.

'I was in on Friday' Peter answered 'There was a break in after hours at Rand and Sons'

'Oh yeah?' Neal said, suddenly interested. Rand and Sons was another large insurance company – competitor to Sterling Bosch and Finch and Johns, Neal's old employer

'They hit their recovery room and made off with about eight million in stuff' Peter said between bites of his Eggs Benedict

'Wow, that's bold' responded Neal

Depending on the number of recoveries which had recently taken place, the recovery room of a large insurance company might be chock full of items which would be of interest to thieves. Those rooms were all equipped with a security system and some of them, like Sterling Bosch, even had a security guard there during the day to control the comings and goings.

'I'm going to give Jones a hand with the case' said Peter

'Keep me posted' Neal added

'So, listen, are we finally going to get together for dinner next weekend?' Peter asked 'El's been trying to coordinate something with Sara for weeks'

'I know... sorry, it's just so hectic with the gallery. Yes, definitely' Neal added, as an afterthought 'Let's make it happen'

WCWCWC

Neal made his way back to the gallery as he spoke to Sara on his Bluetooth.

'Honey, I need you to run some errands for dinner' he was saying as he finally pulled in to the one and only parking space they had for the gallery

'Sure' responded Sara

She could hear the stress in her husband's voice, something she'd been noticing more and more lately. As much as the gallery opening had been the culmination of years of work, it had become the centre of Neal's universe and he seemed to be having more and more trouble relaxing; he was definitely not his usual cool, calm and collected self.

'I left a shopping list on the kitchen counter' he said

'Got it. You sure you're okay?' she asked

'Fine. Look, I'm here, I've got to let you go' he said as he disconnected and stepped out of the car.

He stood for a moment in front of the small store front, admiring it once again; he would never tire of looking at it. 'Raphaël Gallery' it said in bright lettering with his name discretely stenciled on the window: Neal Caffrey, Owner. It was still a rush every time he looked at it. The end result represented so many years of sacrifice, both financial and time wise. Sara had supported him all the way and he would be forever grateful to her for buying into his dream and encouraging him every step of the way.

He spotted a regular patron coming out and waved to her, noticing she was carrying a small square shaped package from the store under her arm – looked like one of the smaller pieces from one of his students. He checked his watch: Hope's class would be starting soon.

The shop's bell chimed announcing his arrival as he opened the door and he noticed the main space was empty. He could hear Hope's giggling coming from the back where the classes were held and he made his way there just in time to catch a glimpse of his daughter and his employee - looking very cosy indeed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

'So, you and Cameron, huh?' Neal asked as he and Hope drove back home after an afternoon of classes and serving customers

Hope spent pretty well all of her Saturdays at the gallery now. She helped out with the clients and she taught an introductory class for young kids, a chance to combine her interest in young children with her love of the arts. She'd been doing an amazing job and Neal enjoyed hearing the muted noises coming from the back of the shop as he toiled in the front room.

He wondered when this little 'infatuation' had taken off – he was usually pretty astute when it came to matters of the heart and he wondered how this had slipped by his usually sharp radar.

'Cam and I are... just friends' she said, coyly

'Cam? That sounds cosy' said Neal, teasingly

Truth was he wasn't quite sure how he felt about a budding romance between his daughter and his student. Cameron was twenty years old and Hope would be turning seventeen shortly – at first glance, that seemed like a big age difference and although the young man was a terrific kid and seemed to be respectful of Hope, Neal couldn't help but be concerned.

Hope looked away from her dad. She wasn't sure what was going on herself but she thought Cameron was really cute and he was always very sweet to her. Things had escalated a little over the past couple of weeks as she'd noticed him paying more and more attention to her. As a matter of fact, just before her dad had walked in on them, she'd thought Cameron was about to kiss her.

'I invited him to my birthday party' she volunteered

'Oh' Neal said, wanting to weigh his words before expressing an opinion

He wondered how Sara might react to the news. Not surprisingly, she was generally more protective of the kids than he was. Neal had grown up without much adult supervision and although he'd made many mistakes over the years, he'd also learned how to take care of himself and he didn't want to coddle his children, preferring to let them explore life fully - within the limits of parental guidance and supervision, of course.

He glanced over at his teenage daughter and suddenly saw a young woman for the first time. She would eventually go on to live her life independently and that would likely include a young man and an active sex life. He shuddered at the thought – 'not yet' his mind screamed as he turned to give her an innocent smile.

WCWCWC

'So, how are things at the gallery?' Sam asked as he took a sip of coffee

He and Neal were sitting in the Caffrey living room while the women finished up in the kitchen – Sara insisting her husband relax with their guest while she served dessert.

'Great! It's going to take a while to build up a steady clientele but people are coming in to the store in droves, looking around, getting a feel for the place. And the classes have really taken off – oh, that reminds me, I have a whole list of supplies I need for next week' Neal said

Sam Jordan was the owner of 'For the love of Art' a small art supply store in Manhattan and Neal had been a regular customer there for years, even before Lydia Wilson had become Lydia Jordan. He liked the fact that Sam was an 'in-the-store' owner and that he could deal directly with the head guy when he went in to make his purchases. Now, Sam supplied him with all the materials he needed for his art classes at the gallery.

'No problem. I'll take it with me and get everything ready for you' Sam responded

'So' Neal ventured 'How are you feeling about becoming a dad any day now?'

He remembered how excited and anxious he'd been before his kids were born – that feeling that the day would never come, being on pins and needles as he and Sara waited for the blessed event. He could see the excitement in Sam's eyes but he could also detect a nervousness emanating from the younger man – something he could certainly relate to.

Sam took a deep breath. 'Well, it's just hard to believe it's finally happening, you know'

Neal nodded in response – he sure did know.

'Lydia's so pig-headed. She wants to keep working until the last minute. I keep thinking I'm going to get a call from Sterling Bosch any day now telling me she had the baby at her desk' he said with a nervous giggle

'Well, we _do_ have a couple of headstrong wives' Neal admitted with a smile

'We've been talking about relocating to the suburbs but Lydia's dead set against it. How did you guys know it was the right decision for you?' he asked

The decision to move from June's mansion to White Plains had been a no-brainer for Neal and Sara although it had been difficult to leave Manhattan and its allure behind. The apartment at June's was no place to raise a young child and Neal had known that from the day Sara had gotten pregnant but he loved living on Riverside Drive and it had been a difficult transition for him – and for Sara. They had both enjoyed being immersed in culture and the arts and the first few months in their cookie-cutter home had been a difficult adjustment. But Neal, especially, had learned to embrace the new lifestyle, discovering a passion he didn't know he had for gardening and revelling in watching Hope as she thrived in the back yard that first summer. Moving away from Manhattan and having to commute daily was the price they'd had to pay to have some space to spread their wings and grow their family.

'We were basically living on Sara's income at the time since I was home with Hope so there were limits to what we could afford - so there was the financial element' Neal answered

He'd never shared his background with Sam and Lydia and as far as they were both concerned, Neal was just a thriving artist and gallery owner who had incredible knowledge of art, a terrific husband and a wonderful dad. Neal's past was well behind him; after all, he had been off-anklet for over 15 years and he just wanted to live his life now without constantly having to explain himself. Sam knew that Neal had helped out with solving some white collar crimes with the FBI but he'd never known exactly what had brought Neal to the Federal Bureau in the first place or what his connection was to the FBI.

'But mostly' Neal continued 'we just wanted Hope to have some space to play outside and we knew that we didn't have the means to make that happen in Manhattan'

He looked over at Sam, deep in thought.

'I'm not sure what we want' he finally said, looking at Neal

'Give yourself some time. We didn't more here until Hope was almost a year old' Neal said as he realized that their move had happened 16 years ago already

Neal rubbed the crick in his neck – which seemed to be there on a regular basis lately – and wondered where the time had gone.

WCWCWC

Back in the kitchen, Sara and Lydia were having a similar discussion from a different perspective. Both women were urbanites, cultured and refined; the furthest thing from being 'typical' suburban housewives.

'I just don't get the attraction' said Lydia as she brought in the last of the dishes from the dining room and handed them over to Sara

'Well, it took a while to get used to, that's for sure' answered Sara

'I love our place in the city. Sure, it's crowded but I want the baby to be surrounded by the excitement of the big city, the diversity, the arts...' said the mother-to-be

'I get it, believe me' answered Sara 'Before we moved here, we lived in Neal's loft in a mansion on Riverside Drive. The view was amazing; you could feel the pulse of the city around you...' she continued, getting a faraway look in her eyes

'Exactly!' said Lydia 'I don't know why Sam is pushing for this move'

'Look, I know what you're saying but in the end, moving here was the best thing for us. It gave us the space we needed and seeing Hope run around the back yard that first time... it was priceless' Sara concluded

'So, you have no regrets?' Lydia asked

Sara shook her head in response. 'None'

'Did you and Neal ever think about having more than two kids or was that always the plan?' asked Lydia

Although they worked together closely and socialized on occasion, Lydia didn't know all that much about the secretive Ms Ellis and Sara wasn't big on sharing.

'I think if I'd left it up to Neal, we would have had a dozen' Sara responded, laughing

Her laughter dissipated as she thought of their family's history: her health scare, her two miscarriages.

'I lost two babies' she said quietly

'Really?' asked Lydia, touching Sara's arm

'I had cancer fifteen years ago – ovarian' she confided '...and I lost a baby I was carrying after they operated to remove my ovary'

'Oh, my God. That's so sad' said Lydia

Sara shrugged.

'Hey, I'm still here and we were lucky, I was able to get pregnant with Liam in the end. And then, about four years ago, lo and behold, I got pregnant at the ripe old age of 43. Neal was over the moon and to be honest, so was I. It was just so unexpected but after we got over the initial shock, we were really excited. But I lost her at 13 weeks' she said wistfully

'I'm sorry' said the young woman

'It just wasn't meant to be... but Neal took it hard and he still talks about her' Sara said, smiling at her friend 'He painted a beautiful portrait of how he'd pictured her; it's hanging in the gallery'

Sara didn't have a lot of friends – sure, she had Elizabeth who knew everything about her and Neal in intimate detail, and she enjoyed spending time with Donna Mason, her friend and neighbor – but she was a busy working mom and she wasn't looking for new friendships.

She looked at Lydia's kind face and realized that she might not have been looking but somehow friendship had found her anyway.

WCWCWC

'I really like those two' Neal said as they lay in bed, curled up against one another

'Lydia is a hoot' Sara agreed 'I just don't want her to get hurt'

'Why would she get hurt?' Neal asked

'No reason... it's just, she wants to keep working and she's got this recovery on Wednesday' Sara confided, her worry evident

'Well, why don't you go with her?' Neal suggested

'I would but... It's taken her a long time to be confident in her own skills and the last thing she needs is me hovering over her. I'm sending one of our male interns with her, just to be sure' Sara mused

Neal pulled her in closer; he wanted to share his discovery about Hope but he didn't want Sara overreacting to the news.

'Cameron's doing a great job at the gallery' he finally said 'And Hope is wonderful with those kids'

'She is, isn't she?' Sara smiled 'Maybe she'll go into teaching; she's really got a knack for it'

'I was noticing a little bit of chemistry between those two' Neal finally admitted

'Cameron and Hope?' Sara asked, in disbelief

'Yeah. He's a nice kid' Neal answered

'Neal, he's twenty years old! He's not a kid – he's a man' Sara said in her no-nonsense way

'And Hope's turning seventeen' Neal added

'Exactly, she's just a kid' Sara stated unequivocally

'Have you looked at our daughter lately, Sara?' asked Neal 'She's a young woman, she's not our baby anymore'

'Well, I hope you're not encouraging this... whatever _this_ is?' said Sara, sitting up and propping herself up on her elbow

'Honey, I'm not doing anything. I'm just sharing an observation, that's all. Hope is becoming a young woman and we might not always agree with some of the choices she's going to make'

'Well, I'm going to have a talk with her...' Sara began before Neal pulled her back down to him

'Whoa, whoa, whoa, there mama bear, slow down. Nothing's happened. I just wanted you to know that I'm picking up on some vibes, that's all. I'll keep an eye on things, don't worry' Neal said

'You better!' said Sara, poking him good-naturedly in the ribs

'You seem to be forgetting the age difference between us which is almost twice the age difference between them' Neal finally added, stating the obvious

'Well, I'm a grown woman and I happen to love old guys' she said, giggling

'Old guys, huh? Well, how about giving grampa a little kiss?' he asked playfully as he pulled her in

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Mondays were always chaotic in the Caffrey household as everyone reverted from relaxed mode back to work mode in one fell swoop. The gallery opened at ten on weekday mornings, so Neal had a bit of time to get himself organized although there were lunches to prepare and the inevitable nagging at two teenagers in order to get them out of the house on time for school.

'Honey, do we have any more of those antacid tablets?' Neal asked as he rooted through the kitchen cupboard

'Again?' asked Sara 'You've been popping those things like candy, lately'

Neal rolled his eyes at the exaggeration 'It's just temporary' he said, meekly

His stomach was doing flip-flops all the time lately it seemed, no matter what he ate or didn't eat. Sara had been on his case about seeing the doctor but there was never any time for that. He spent all day during the week at the gallery, taught at NYU one night a week and during the evenings when the shop was closed, he did ordering and bookkeeping for the gallery often getting home well past 9:00. On weekends, although Cameron was available to help, Neal liked to spend time at the gallery since it was their busiest time, plus he taught an art appreciation class on Thursday nights and Saturday afternoons. Sara often helped out on weekends although someone had to hold down the fort at home, getting Liam to and from basketball practice and generally keeping things organized on the home front.

Neal knew he'd have to get additional help with the store at some point but he wanted to give himself a few months to assess his needs before deciding on the type of support he needed. He'd known going in that getting a new business venture off the ground was a major endeavor but even he had underestimated the time he would need to invest in order to make a go of it.

By eight o'clock, the house was finally quiet and Raffie made his way to lie next to Neal on the kitchen floor as he pulled out his students' latest assignments for marking. He gave the dog a quick scratch behind the ears and got to work.

WCWCWC

Hope was finishing up grade 11 – one more year to go before she headed off to college. She and her parents had been discussing options and Carnegie Mellon had come up on more than a few occasions. She knew her parents had invested a lot into the gallery and now that it was a reality, she could see them scrimping and saving to put money away for her college tuition. She was glad to be working at the gallery and to be making a few bucks – she wanted to be able to contribute to paying for her education.

She walked a few houses over to her best friend's place and spotted Olivia Mason coming down the driveway.

'Hey' said Hope, waving

Olivia fell in step with Hope and foregoing the niceties, jumped right into the heart of the matter 'So did you see him again?' she asked, excitedly

Hope's face became radiant at the thought of Cam; he had the most beautiful deep brown eyes and she loved the way his long hair rested on his shoulders – a real artist type. The fact that he was a budding artist didn't hurt – it was just one more thing they had in common and although Hope Ellis-Caffrey was a very level-headed young lady, she couldn't help but be enthralled by the romanticism of the situation.

'Yeah, I saw him on Saturday' she said, her usually calm voice a little shrill 'and get this... he almost kissed me'

'You're kidding!' responded Olivia, thrilled – just as a best friend should be

The two young women had been friends since they were three years old and they had stuck together all though elementary school, middle school and now high school. Olivia was the total opposite of Hope both physically and interest-wise but that had never kept them from being confidants and best friends to one another over the years. Olivia was considering a career in the sciences or perhaps health care whereas Hope was an artist, like her dad, much more of a bohemian.

Both of them had had casual boyfriends over the years but nothing serious and Olivia had recently been pining over a guy from Grade 12 who played for the high school football team. But this... this was big, Hope was on the cusp of a relationship with a college guy!

'My dad walked in just as he was moving in to lay one on me. I wanted to scream' said Hope, giggling

'What did he say?' asked Olivia as they continued towards the bus stop

'Who, Cam?' asked Hope

'No, your dad!' responded Olivia

'He was pretty chill about it but you know my mom; when she finds out, she's gonna blow a gasket...' said Hope

'...get this, I invited him to my party' she concluded as they reached their destination

The girls boarded the bus, giggling.

WCWCWC

Monday night turned out like every other night lately; Neal stayed late at the gallery while Sara kept things under control at home. She glanced in the fridge, trying to figure out what she could pull together; luckily there were leftovers from Sunday's dinner of pork loin and roasted potatoes and she reached in to grab the container, thinking of her husband stuck alone at the gallery, working away. Hope was having dinner at the Masons so that left her and Liam, on their own. She placed the leftovers on plates, preparing to heat them up and she heard her son in the distance, slowly making his way down the stairs.

'What time is your practice?' she called out to him as he entered the kitchen

He ambled over, looking over her shoulder, all five foot ten of him. He was growing so fast – and when she was in her stocking feet, he hovered over her, his tall, lanky body now a good three inches beyond her small frame.

'Six thirty' he answered in his low-key 'Liam' way

'Did you check your blood sugar?' she asked

Although Liam was doing an excellent job of monitoring himself, Sara couldn't help but worry. It had been a mere four months since his diagnosis and once they had gotten over the shock, Neal and Sara had buckled down, reading everything they could about juvenile diabetes and making sure that they were keeping a close eye on their son. His sports activities made the whole balancing act a little more complex but Liam was learning to monitor his symptoms and except for a couple of scary moments where he'd had to react quickly, he'd been very responsible at handling himself, to his parents' relief.

'Yep, 5.1' he answered

'Leftovers okay?' she asked as Raffie made his way over, tail wagging madly

'Not you!' she said as she ruffled his fur

WCWCWC

Neal sat at the small desk, trying to concentrate, his mind returning to what he'd witnessed a few days before. He was trying to keep his protective 'poppa bear' persona in check around Sara – after all she was fiercely protective enough for the two of them but he did share some of her concern. Although his daughter was a very mature, responsible young woman who had never given them reason to worry, she was still a starry-eyed teenager who was being wooed by a college junior. He resolved to have a little chat with Cameron about the situation; after all, he'd hired him to help with the store not to swoop in and break his little girl's heart.

Neal was distracted by a soft knock on the door of the gallery. Although they'd been closed for over an hour, he had a pretty good idea who it was and he stood from the small desk tucked into the corner to open up.

'I thought it might be you' he said in greeting to the young man standing there

'Your wife called it in' said the young delivery guy from the café next door

'How much do I owe you?' Neal asked

'12.75' he said looking down at the receipt stapled to the brown paper bag

More often than not, Neal would forget to plan for dinner. He always meant to be home in time to eat but the truth was, by the time he got home, it was usually after nine o'clock and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and curl up next to his wife.

'And what am I dining on tonight?' Neal asked with a crooked smile as he took out his wallet to pay

'Looks like... Caesar chicken wrap and a Perrier' he answered as he read off the receipt

'Here you go' said Neal, taking the bag from him 'Keep the change'

'Thanks. Goodnight!' answered the young man

Neal smiled to himself as he carried the meal back to where he'd been working; even when she wasn't physically there, Sara was always looking out for him. He returned to the task at hand which at the moment was sifting through the registration forms for the second session of the children's art classes which were set to begin in another three weeks. He had underestimated the popularity of the sessions and he was pleased that he had an accomplished artist like his daughter to run the classes. He was beginning to wonder if he should enlist Cameron's help as well – from the number of registrations on his desk, it was looking like they might have to add another session.

He munched on his dinner, mulling that over and he became distracted by the number of blank spaces that had appeared on the walls. They had been selling many of the smaller paintings from his students over the past week and he made a mental note to ask if any of them had any new pieces they wanted to display. He was making a fair bit of loose change with those commissions but his main goal was to give those kids some well deserved exposure. One of them, Marcia Taylor, had actually gotten a commission from one of Neal's more elite clients; after spotting (and purchasing) the young artist's work, the older gentleman had asked the artist to paint a portrait of his granddaughter. Marcia had been thrilled and she was set to deliver the painting the following weekend.

Hope's stuff was really moving as well. She had sold two of her paintings and Neal had been incredibly proud as he'd carefully wrapped her rendition of her brother jumping off the dock at the cottage and handed it over to the paying customer.

He had just gone back to dealing with the tedious paperwork when he heard the key in the door and looked up to see Sara standing there, the small bell tinkling over her head as she opened the door.

He smiled up at her, surprised yet delighted to find her there.

'What are _you_ doing here?' he asked as he stood to greet her

'I just dropped Liam off at his basketball practice and I couldn't stop thinking of you, here alone' she said as she made her way to stand next to him

'You dropped off our son, five blocks from our place and you drove all the way to downtown Manhattan to...' he began as she cut him off

'To give you this' she said as she reached her arms around his neck, nestling her fingers firmly in his hair

She kissed him soundly, a kiss full of love and concern and Neal just melted in her touch. He laughed heartily as she finally pulled away giving him a warm, loving smile.

'Thanks for dinner' he said, smiling back

'You're welcome. Now, come on. Put everything away. We'll drive back and you can catch the end of Liam's practice' she said, more of an order than a request

Neal could see he had no choice in the matter so he proceeded to quickly tidy up and, lacing his arm around his wife, he turned off the lights and they made their way out together into the night.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Tuesdays were always a little crazy - well _crazier_. That was the night Neal taught over at NYU and he was always in a rush to get there on time. He didn't want to have to close the shop early so between leaving the gallery at 6:00 and trying desperately to get to class by 7:00, things always got a little hectic.

He had just finished putting up some new canvasses and was in the process of admiring the display when the door opened with a gust of cold air. March was so unpredictable and the north wind had blown in during the day bringing with it an uncharacteristic rush of frigid arctic air.

'Peter? What brings you here?' he asked as he spotted his best friend standing there with two Starbucks cups in his hands

'Coffee break!' Peter announced

'I could sure use one!' Neal answered, gratefully accepting the cup from Peter's outstretched hand

'Is it...' he began as Peter interrupted

'Decaf? Yes it is, decaf latte with vanilla bean' answered Peter with a knowing smile

'Mmmm, you _do_ know me well' Neal said in response as he took in the wonderful aroma emanating from the cup

'Wow, the place looks great' said the former G-man as he took in the new works hanging on the walls 'Looks like you've got a lot of new stuff'

'Yeah' agreed Neal 'That's because we sold all the old stuff'

'That's great! So business is pretty good, huh?' Peter asked

'Yeah, a little too good' answered Neal as they both settled in on the nearby stools

He had barely taken a sip of his heavenly drink when the bell chimed once again, announcing a new arrival.

'Mrs. Marshall!' Neal said, putting on his patented Caffrey smile and standing to greet her

'Hi Mr. Caffrey' she said, breathless

'Weren't you in just yesterday?' he asked

'I was and I've been thinking of that painting of yours I was admiring' she said 'and I'm finally ready to commit'

Peter could see something in Neal's eyes – a fleeting sadness – yet Neal's smile didn't appear to waver to the casual observer.

'Why don't you take a seat right here and I'll run up and get it for you' Neal said as he took off up the stairs to the second floor

He returned within moments carrying a large canvas and Peter suddenly understood the reason for what he'd observed in his best friend's eyes. It was the painting Neal had done after Sara's miscarriage; the image of the baby girl they had lost. Neal had confided to Peter that he had a very specific image of what he imagined she would have looked like and he'd felt compelled to paint the child as a three year old, blond hair, blue eyes, soft smile, the perfect fusion of Sara and Neal. The painting had been tucked away in Neal's studio at home for over four years and Peter hadn't realized that his ex-partner had decided he was ready to part with it. He watched as Neal prepared to wrap the canvas, his hands slightly shaking as he reached for the roll of paper nearby.

'Is 'Hannah' someone you knew?' asked Mrs. Marshall, curious as to the title of the piece and the story behind it

Neal hesitated for a brief moment before answering. 'Yes, she was a very special little girl' he finally said, his voice wavering ever so slightly

He lovingly wrapped the portrait in brown craft paper, mindlessly chatting about the weather, asking Mrs. Marshall if she was enjoying the painting she had purchased the week before. Ever the consummate professional, he handed the package over with a warm smile and finalized the transaction. She must have sensed something because as she left, she thanked him profusely, adding that she had a very special place in her home for the portrait and that she would take very good care of it.

Neal stood immobile for a moment as he watched her leave, taking a piece of him with her. Finally, the door closed and Neal felt Peter's hand on his shoulder as his friend came up behind him.

'You okay?' he asked

'Yeah, yeah' Neal said, shaking off the sadness 'I wouldn't have put it up for sale if I wasn't ready to let it go. Besides, I still have a sketch of it at home'

He turned to face Peter, breaking the mood as he spoke.

'So, are you going to tell me what you're really doing here?' he asked

'What? Can't a guy just drop by to see his buddy?' Peter asked with a wicked grin

Neal frowned in response. There was always more to it where Peter was concerned.

'Well, I know Tuesdays are rushed and I thought you could make your way leisurely to the university and I could close up the shop for you?' Peter finally confessed

'Really?' Neal asked in disbelief 'This has Sara written all over it'

Peter just shrugged mysteriously and proceeded to change the subject.

'You know that case I've been working on?' he said

'The theft at Rand and Sons?' Neal responded

'Yeah, the thieves waited until the offices were closed and short circuited the alarm system. Intel says they might be targeting some other large insurance companies' said Peter

'Any idea who these guys are?' Neal asked, his curiosity piqued

'No' answered Peter 'Two guys dressed in black with balaclavas'

'Have you given the insurance companies a heads up?' Neal asked

'We've sent out a very vague reminder of the importance of securing their recovered goods. We don't want to cause a panic' Peter answered

'I'll make sure Sara knows' said Neal, sipping his coffee

The door opened again – another customer and Neal winked at Peter.

'Duty calls' he said

WCWCWC

Lydia Jordan sat at her desk, finalizing her report on an item she'd recovered the previous week. It was a diamond bracelet that had been taken from the home of one of their upper-crust clients. Working on the elite team at SB was all about recovering items which had been stolen from their most privileged clientele including museums, galleries and at times condescending and demanding individuals. Although she generally enjoyed meeting with clients, that was mostly Sara's job and Lydia absolutely hated it when she had to deal with some of their more pretentious clients. This particular client, Mrs. Van Dyke, had been especially bitchy to Lydia over the phone and she had gladly passed her on to her supervisor. The young woman admired how Sara had a way of keeping her cool and always found a way of telling clients what they wanted to hear.

She reached for her purse and was aware of an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach; not a pain exactly, just a bizarre, pulling sensation. She was going to have to seriously start thinking about calling it quits. She'd told Sara she wanted to work up until the very last minute and with just three weeks to go, that could be practically any time. Sam had been on her case about going on leave sooner rather than later but truth be told, Lydia was kind of scared of what would happen when she stopped doing what came so naturally to her and she wanted to put off the inevitable as long as possible. Becoming a mom was exciting but scary and she realized with trepidation that there was no turning back now.

Sara swept by her office and popped her head in: 'Staff meeting' she said

WCWCWC

Neal arrived in class twenty minutes early for a change and he'd only just begun to set up his Power Point presentation when Cameron Armstrong popped his head into the empty classroom.

'Mr. Caffrey!' he said 'You're early!'

'Hey Cameron, how are you?' asked Neal as he looked around to see if the young man was alone

There would never be a _good_ time to have the awkward discussion he was planning to have with him and upon seeing that the young man was on his own, he decided there was no time like the present to take the bull by the horns.

'Listen, Cameron, do you have a minute?' Neal asked, signaling him to step inside

'Sure' answered the young student, stepping into the classroom and putting down his books on a nearby desk

'You know, I've been meaning to tell you, I really appreciate all your hard work at the gallery. It's been a great help having you around' Neal began, easing into the uncomfortable subject

'I love working there, thanks for the opportunity' Cameron said, noticing Neal seemed to have more to say

There was an uncomfortable silence and the young man hesitated before speaking.

'Have I done something wrong?' he added, picking up on his teacher's uneasiness

'No, no, nothing like that. I just... I noticed that you and Hope have gotten close lately' Neal said, waiting for a response

'She's terrific!' said Cameron, spontaneously

'Yes, she is' agreed Neal 'And she's also just turning seventeen'

'Sir, I haven't done anything...' he began, nervously

'I believe you, Cameron but I can't help wondering what your intentions are where she's concerned. I know it's hard to believe but I _have_ been in your shoes and I know what it's like to... to have an interest in a girl'

Now that Neal was the father of a beautiful seventeen year old daughter, he cringed as he recalled how he hadn't always been honest and straightforward with many of the women he'd known in his life. Sure, on the surface, he was always charming and considerate but his intentions hadn't always been pure – especially when he was conning them – and although he was reasonably sure that Cameron Armstrong wasn't a world-renowned conman, he didn't want his daughter falling prey to a man of questionable intentions.

'Mr. Caffrey, I really like Hope and I'd like to get to know her better. I was going to ask her out on a date but if you think I shouldn't...' Cameron answered, obviously embarrassed

Neal could see the sincerity in the young man's eyes and suddenly his heart went out to him. If he meddled in Hope's affairs, she'd be angry – and with reason. He just wanted his student to know that he was keeping an eye on things and that he didn't want his precious little girl hurt by someone who didn't have her best interest at heart.

'I was going to invite her to the opening of that new gallery over on 38th next weekend. Hope loves that kind of stuff and... I could have her home at any time you ask' he continued

'That sounds good, Cameron. Why don't we start with that. Just promise me one thing – that you won't lead her on' Neal said, his gaze boring into the young man's dark eyes

In the years to come, Hope would likely have a long list of suitors and she would inevitably have her heart broken along the way; he just didn't want anyone knowingly going into a relationship with her with deceitful intent.

'Yes, sir. I promise' he answered sincerely

'Alright, then' Neal said as he put out his hand to shake it

Cameron awkwardly responded in kind, taking Neal's hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Wednesday night saw their roles reversed as Sara stayed late at the office and Neal took over on the home front. He glanced around the gallery with pride one last time, making sure everything was in order before heading over to the keypad by the door and punching in his security code. It was 6:00 on the dot and he had just enough time to make it over the bridge to meet the kids for a quick bite before Liam's basketball game. He ran to his car and cursed the tightness in his chest once again, 'damn heartburn' he thought as he absent-mindedly rubbed at his stomach. He settled in behind the steering wheel and asked his smart car to call home.

'Hey, you good to drive yourselves to the restaurant?' he asked as Hope answered on the other end

'Dad! I've been driving for six months, I'm good' she responded

There were many rules associated with Hope's use of one of the family's two vehicles and they included staying close to home for the moment. Although she'd proven herself to be trustworthy as a driver, she was by no means ready to venture out of their little neck of the woods.

'So, where do you guys want to eat?' asked Neal although the thought of ingesting just about anything was very unappealing at the moment

'Liam wants to go to Mel's. Is that okay?' she responded as Neal heard Liam echoing the sentiment in the background

'Sure. It'll take me at least half an hour to get there so go ahead, don't wait for me to order' said Neal as he spotted the bridge off in the distance 'I'll see you when I get there. And Hope...' he began

'I know, Dad, 'drive carefully' she chimed in 'I will. Love you'

Neal smiled at the predictability of her response; they were such great kids, both of them. He thought again about Cameron and what appeared to be genuine sincerity in his eyes as they'd spoken the night before. Three years might seem like a big age difference at their age but Hope was a very mature young woman and although she was definitely seeing stars where the young man was concerned, Neal had no doubt that she would keep a cool head – although, sadly, he would never be able to keep her from having her heart broken.

He thought back to where _he_ had been at the age of twenty. He'd left home by then but, unlike Cameron, he was already supplementing his income with illicit activities. He wondered in passing how he would have reacted to a 15-year-old Sara back then. He realized that as they continued to age, the three year difference between Cameron and Hope would be nothing to be concerned about. He and his wife were proof of that.

WCWCWC

Sara Ellis sat at her desk at Sterling Bosch, catching up on some very boring report reading she'd been putting off for much too long. As supervisor to a dozen or so insurance investigators, it was her job to sign off on any and all reports, recoveries and sundry documents submitted by her staff.

Tonight was the night Lydia was scheduled to crash the meet between the fence Mozzie had fingered and the buyer of the Foley sculpture. Sara picked up the phone and dialed Lydia's phone extension.

'You want to grab a bite to eat before you go?' she asked 'I'll order us something'

'I'll be right in' came the response

Sara went over the plan once again in her head. Mozzie had confirmed that the swap was still on – yes, he was still playing that very dangerous game of his. The fence was someone he'd already ratted out twice before but who was seemingly too stupid to put two and two together. The plan was for Lydia to go in with Joe Morley, one of SB's interns and interrupt the sale – quick and dirty, in and out. But still, Sara worried and she wanted to spend some time with Lydia to evaluate whether or not it was still safe for her to carry out the task; if she had any doubts, she'd decided that she would pull the plug and go to the meet herself.

She was interrupted by a small knock on her door and looked up to see the young woman herself, as big as a house.

WCWCWC

'So, who are you guys playing tonight?' asked Neal as he took a bite of what appeared to be a very greasy burger

'The Griffons' answered Liam

'Aren't they the ones fighting you for first place?' Neal asked

Liam took a long, slow pull of his vanilla shake and nodded. 'Yeah, they've got that guy – Wes Janney'

'Oh, yeah, I remember now' answered Neal 'Should be a good game'

Hope sat quietly, seemingly reflective. She didn't always want to go to Liam's games but this time, she'd been rather eager to attend. Neal appreciated help with the taxiing back and forth; it would have been a stretch for him to make it home, get them fed and make it to the game by 7:30.

'What's new with you, sweet pea?' Neal asked as he turned just in time to see her roll her eyes

He had called her that since day one and most days, she would smile in response but lately... would she ever be too old to be his 'sweet pea' Neal wondered sadly.

'Not much... oh Dad, I think one of the headlights on the car is burned out' she added

'Okay, well, be extra careful and I'll have it looked at tomorrow' he responded 'Drive with your brights on if you have to'

He was feeling like a juggler lately – as if he had six balls in the air all at the same time and had no control over which one was going to come crashing down on his head. He just hoped that when the crash came, it would be something that could easily be mended.

WCWCWC

'So, have you had any contractions yet?' asked Sara as she finished up her bowl of jasmine rice and steamed shrimp

'Tons!' answered Lydia, sitting across from her boss

'I ended up in the emergency room last week' she confessed

'Braxton Hicks?' Sara asked, remembering her little foray to Lenox Hill Hospital in the middle of the night when she was 37 weeks along with Hope. Neal had been a wreck and they'd arrived only to be told to go back home and wait some more.

'Yeah – if those aren't the real deal, I'm not looking forward to labor' Lydia answered, giggling

Sara picked up on the nervous laugh and couldn't help but remember that time in her life when everything was starting up for her and Neal; how he'd stood by her and supported her every step of the way, how he'd been everything she'd ever needed or hoped for all through her pregnancy and finally in the delivery room, the look of utter amazement on his face when Hope was finally placed in his arms.

'I know, it's cliché but the labor pains are worth every minute' she said to her friend by way of encouragement

Lydia Jordan smiled in response. 'Look, I better get going if I don't want to miss my date with Jake the Snake' she said referring to the name Mozzie used for the fence she was about to interrupt, mid-deal

'One last chance to back out' said Sara, standing to walk her to the door

'I'm good' Lydia said, her voice strong

'I'll be here when you get back and we'll do the paper work together, okay?' said Sara, referring to the cursory forms which needed to be filled out when an item was brought in after a recovery

'Alright, see you in a little while' answered Lydia as she headed out into the night

WCWCWC

Neal sat in the stands along with all the other Ridgemont parents cheering on their kids. Watching his son play was always a treat and he took pleasure – and pride – in both Liam and Hope's successes. Neal had never played team sports – hell, he never really got the opportunity, growing up. Sure, he'd always been fit and agile but he'd used those attributes to sneak into museums and skulk around illicit venues in search of something he now knew he would never have found. He lived vicariously through his kids, as many parents did, and he took pleasure in watching them succeed where he had never had the chance.

'I'll be back in a minute' said Hope as she stood to make her way to the school gym door

She'd been a very quiet companion since they'd arrived, busily typing away on her phone to whomever – Neal could only imagine. He didn't like to be on her case about who she might or might not be chatting with. After all, she was a soon to be 17-year-old and her track record as 'exemplary teenager' had earned her some rights in the privacy department.

He watched as she walked away, noticing how much she looked like a young woman now, her body having changed and making way for all the curves in all the right places – when had that happened, he wondered once again. The crowd erupted as Liam dumped another one in the basket giving his team the lead and one of the Ridgemont dads gave Neal a celebratory and enthusiastic pat on the back, bringing Neal's attention back to the game at hand.

He was well engrossed in the action on the court when he suddenly noticed Hope making her way back up the bleachers with, to Neal's surprise, none other than Cameron Armstrong following right behind her.

WCWCWC

Pete and Johnny Milville sat at the kitchen table of the small apartment they shared in the Bronx, going over their next hit one last time. The haul from the Rand and Sons theft had been promising but they knew that the job they were about to pull at Sterling Bosch would be even more lucrative. They had used the first one as a test run to see if their entrance and exit plans were as sound as they'd hoped and although they'd been studying the security systems of several insurance investigation firms, they'd wanted to see how it would all play out in real time.

The guys were young and ambitious, not what you'd call hardcore criminals although they'd decided to invest in some firearms for the series of thefts they'd planned. They'd never used a gun on jobs before but they were willing to go that route if the need arose – especially Pete who was Johnny's older brother by four years and by far the more ambitious of the two. Sure, they'd carried out petty crimes in the past, small time stuff really but they felt ready for the big times and the bigger pay-offs; they had done their homework and they felt they were up to the challenge.

Their intel (one of the new interns at SB) had revealed that Sterling Bosch had upped the ante by keeping their day-time security guard in place until 8:00 in the evenings following the well-publicized theft at Rand and Sons. They'd planned to hit after the guard left his post, sometime after 9:30. They wanted to avoid any unnecessary confrontations; disarming the security system was enough of a challenge. They'd also been aware of the fact that the FBI's white collar unit had been snooping around after their successful theft; they'd researched the elite division and knew they had an excellent track record – especially that Special Agent Peter Burke who had been seen lurking in the wings after their visit to Rand and Sons. The plan was simple: disable the alarm which they had studied at length, giving them exactly three minutes and twenty four seconds before the closest NYPD precinct had time to arrive on the premises, grab what they could in one trip and exit where they'd come in, joining their cousin Gregory whose job it was to wait in the van, right by the back door of the building.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Joe Morley sat in front of his beer and waited for his connection. He'd been employed as an intern at Sterling Bosch for just under six months and as far as he was concerned, things were not moving fast enough. His boss, Sara Ellis, had him learning the ropes, assisting the insurance investigators with recoveries and writing goddamn never-ending reports. He sure as hell hadn't worked his ass off getting a Masters degree in Art History to become a gopher and he was getting increasingly frustrated at the apparent lack of advancement at the firm.

That Ellis woman could be a cold hard bitch when she wanted to be and he didn't like her one bit; she'd put him in his place when he'd first arrived, giving him some unsolicited advice on how to reach his goal of becoming an investigator. More than half of her team was female and where Joe grew up, women were the ones who ought to be in subservient roles, not men. He'd taken pleasure in slipping some information to those two guys who'd been hanging around, casing the joint. Sure, the $10,000 they had offered for information would pay for a weekend getaway with his hot new girlfriend, Bambi, but he was mostly doing this to screw over that Ellis woman. With any luck, sharing confidential information about the goings on at Sterling Bosch might turn into a lucrative side business.

The dim light in the bar grew even dimmer and he looked up to see Pete Milville blocking the light, hovering over him with his hand in his pocket. The young man took out an envelope and without as much as a greeting, threw it on the table towards Joe who just sneered back at him. The man left as quickly as he'd appeared leaving Joe alone; it was time to meet up with Lydia Jordan and he headed out, patting down his pocket with a devious smile.

WCWCWC

'Hi Mr. Caffrey' said Cameron with a weak smile as he took a seat beside Hope on the bleachers

'Cameron! I wasn't expecting to see you here!' said Neal, the most innocuous thing he could think of saying under the circumstances

Hope jumped into the conversation: 'Cam was telling me that he used to play basketball for his high school team and I thought he might enjoy seeing Liam play'

Neal nodded. It was a reasonable explanation; he just wished his daughter had mentioned it before the young man's arrival. They'd been sitting in absolute silence for the past hour and she had ample opportunity to drop it into the conversation – 'oh, by the way, Dad...'

'Our team won the divisional championship two years ago' volunteered Cameron, looking suddenly very nervous at the thought that he might not be welcome

Neal relaxed and gave him a sincere smile, hoping to put him at ease. This was all very innocent and what could be more natural than wanting to spend time with the person you fancied. If Hope was plotting on doing anything her parents wouldn't approve of, she wouldn't be doing it in front of her dad and a couple of hundred parents at a basketball game.

'That's great! So were you a guard?' Neal asked, a likely theory considering Cameron's height of over six feet

'Yeah, I was' he answered, seemingly relaxing a bit as Hope looked on

She seemed visibly pleased that the two men in her life were getting along – at least in this slightly uncomfortable situation. She loved her dad and would do anything to make him proud – well almost anything – but he had to give her some space now that she was a young woman. She began to relax as Neal and Cameron continued with the easy banter, breaking out in cheer every time Ridgemont scored another basket. Liam was having another formidable game and Cameron was getting into it, commenting on the team's strengths and strategies, with Neal chiming in with his long-held opinions on the subject.

By the time the game ended, Cameron excused himself to use the facilities and Neal found himself alone with Hope, waiting for Liam to come out of the team dressing room.

'So, you really like this guy, huh?' Neal said as he put his arm around his daughter and squeezed her shoulder

Hope gave him a coy, demure smile he'd never quite seen on her face before and he grinned in response.

'Just promise me you'll take it easy, okay?' he added

'Daaaad!' she whined, half-woman, half-child

'Look, your mom and I support you but I don't want to see you getting hurt' Neal cautioned

'Cam's not going to hurt me, Dad' she said with an impatient sigh

Neal held his tongue – 'if you only knew, baby girl...' he thought, thinking ahead to what life inevitably had in store for those like Hope (and himself) who wore their hearts on their sleeve

'Dad, can I invite Cam back to the house?' she asked, her bright blue eyes shining

'Honey, I was going to drive into Manhattan and surprise your mom with a ride home' Neal said as he thought of his wife, working late at the office

'So?' Hope asked, unsure of the connection between her request and his answer

'So, I don't want Cameron at the house when we're not there' he said, a little more unequivocally

'But...' she began, a whine, as Cameron returned unaware of what had just transpired

Neal shot Hope an 'I'm serious' look and Hope momentarily pouted but she almost immediately regained her cool and turned to Cam.

'Thanks for coming, Cam. I guess I'll see you at the gallery on Saturday' she said, resigned

'Sure. Goodnight' he said as he looked over at Neal for some sort of approval, and seeing no obvious _dis_approval, he bent down to give Hope a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning to leave.

Neal looked on, his heart glad; this is what he wanted for his daughter, a sweet, innocent beginning to this new relationship. He could see Hope's eyes gleaming as she turned to watch Cameron leave, her eyes glued to him until he'd disappeared from sight.

WCWCWC

Sara sat in her office, trying to remain focussed on the boring tasks which had accumulated in the bottom of her in-basket – those chores you just keep putting off. She thought of Lydia, a few miles away, doing her 'insurance investigator' thing. She was glad she'd thought of sending Joe Morley along. He had a bit of an attitude, she had to admit, but he was a big strapping guy and he would be a good deterrent if the fence or the buyer gave Lydia a hard time. Recoveries varied greatly – they could go down smooth and easy or they could turn ugly, something Sara knew all too well from her many years in the field. She was glad to have those years behind her, although there was an indisputable rush to confronting a thief and recovering an heirloom or treasure and returning it to its rightful owner.

Her thoughts turned to Neal; he'd been looking very pale lately and she worried that he was just pushing too hard. The gallery was taking up practically all of his time and although he was still the loving, caring husband and father he'd always been, she could see that the effort required was becoming more than her husband could comfortably give. She picked up the phone and left a message with the local family clinic in White Plains asking for a call-back for an appointment; if Neal wasn't going to do it, she would.

Next, she dialed extension 246, the recovery room. In light of the break-in which had taken place at Rand and Sons, Winston Bosch had declared a higher level of security at the firm and the hours of coverage just outside the recovery room on the 38th floor had been extended to ensure there was someone there when staff needed to access the room. The guard was scheduled to be there until 8:00 after such time the security system was set for the night.

'Leroy?' Sara said into the phone, recognizing the voice on the other end

'Good evening, Ms Ellis' answered the kind-hearted man

Leroy Winston had been employed at Sterling Bosch for over thirty five years in a variety of roles, doorman at first before moving on to more demanding positions in security, finally as head of security for the insurance company for the past five years.

'What are you doing manning the desk?' she asked, curious

'One of my young whippersnappers called in sick' he answered matter of factly

He was a great guy, father of eight, grandfather of three and Sara always enjoyed her little chats with him. He was sweet and always helpful and he'd been there for Sara on a couple of occasions where she'd needed back-up.

'So, you're there until what time?' she asked

Leroy knew that if Sara was asking, it was likely because she had an item she needed to check in to the recovery room. Of course, someone with the high security clearance Sara Ellis had could come and go into the inner sanctum whenever she wanted to but it was late and the kind gentleman didn't want her to be alone on the 38th floor after hours.

'Do you have something coming in tonight?' he asked

'I do but I don't want you staying late on my account' said Sara

'Don't give it a second thought, Ms Ellis. I'll wait for you before I pack it in' he said

'Are you sure, Leroy?' asked Sara, not wanting to impose on his kindness

'Anything for you, you know that' he said with a hearty laugh which turned into a coughing fit (damn cigarettes!)

'Thanks Leroy, I appreciate it. It shouldn't be later than 9:00 or 9:30. I'm just waiting for my investigator to get back and we'll be right up' said a relieved Sara

She had to admit that ever since Neal had told her about the break-in at Rand and Sons, she'd been a little more on her guard. These types of thefts often took place in clusters and she hoped that Sterling Bosch wasn't on these guys hit list. She returned to her computer and continued her vigil.

WCWCWC

Neal had barely made it out of the parking lot of Ridgemont Middle School when the familiar pangs hit once again. Whatever was ailing him seemed to be centered in the middle of his chest – a burning, searing pain that reared its ugly head on its own unpredictable schedule. He'd vomited a couple of times – although he hadn't shared that with Sara – and he knew that he couldn't go on ignoring the problem for much longer. He felt the now familiar stirring in his gut and spotted the diner where they'd had dinner in the distance, hoping he could get there before it was too late; he didn't want to have to think about having the car detailed.

He made it there in the nick of time, waving to Mel, the owner as he ran to the washroom in the back and deposited his dinner, a mere few feet away from where he'd ingested it. He laughed bitterly at the irony as he looked down at the toilet, noting for the second time in so many days that there was blood in the bowl. Even Neal, in his current state of denial, knew that couldn't be good but he moved to the mirror, washed his face and popped a couple of antacids. Tomorrow... tomorrow, he'd call and get an appointment, he repeated to himself.

He stepped out of the washroom and ordered a decaf for the road. Sara would be tired from her long day and the last thing she needed was to be worrying about him. He plastered on a smile and stepped back into the car, continuing on his way to surprise his wife and bring her home.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The bar was quiet, a tiny hole in the wall like hundreds of others in Manhattan. Lydia stepped in, followed by the tall, robust intern and sidled up to the bar, awkwardly taking a seat and cursing her large belly which made _everything_ more difficult and uncomfortable. She certainly was an anomaly; a very pregnant woman sitting on a barstool on a Wednesday night - but the bartender's job was not to ask how or why, just to serve drinks.

Joe ordered a beer and an orange juice for Lydia and they sat, casing the place, trying to get their bearings. Mozzie had kindly provided a photograph of Jake the Snake and the insurance investigator looked around the place, seeing if she could spot him. The place was quiet – and small – there would be nowhere to hide when the meet finally went down so the twosome sat and drank quietly as they waited.

'Thanks for coming along' said Lydia as she clumsily turned towards Joe

'It's my job' he answered unenthusiastically and straight-faced

'Are you enjoying working at Sterling Bosch?' she asked, trying to make small talk while they waited

He shrugged. 'I was hoping things would move a little faster...' he said, not wanting to be too negative and attract any unwanted attention as to his motives or actions

'You'll see. Sara will bring you in when she feels you're ready' Lydia said 'She's very fair with her employees. Just be patient'

He rolled his eyes in response and if she'd been paying attention, she might have picked up on more than a passing dissatisfaction regarding his status with his current employer. But she was distracted by a new arrival: a very nervous looking man in his fifties who most certainly did not fit the profile for this type of establishment. He looked nervously around the place and made his way towards a booth in the back, clasping a small attaché case in his hand. The barman gave him a slight look of disapproval; the place sold beer and liquor and wasn't in the business of providing booths for the purpose of loitering. Service at the tables wasn't standard either but the new guy didn't seem to know the ropes so the bartender yelled out over the crowd.

'What can I get you?' he said, his voice impatient

'Draft is fine' said the diminutive man, nervously looking around

Lydia gave Joe a knowing look – it appeared their buyer had arrived. Now, all they had to do was wait for the fence's arrival. She scrunched her eyes closed as another contraction hit – stronger than the others – and she hung on to the edge of the bar to steady herself.

'You alright?' asked Joe, noticing her clenched features

She didn't answer, working hard to breathe through the contraction and the bartender gave them a concerned look as the door opened once more. Lydia forced her eyes open and despite the fact that the contraction was still in full swing, she noticed Jake arriving in her field of vision and gave Joe an awkward kick to get his attention while she tried to get herself under control. Luckily, the pain subsided briefly and she got her wits back, struggling to turn and face the newcomer. The fence was carrying a small item in a brown paper bag, just about the size of the medallion they'd been sent to recover. She watched as he made his way towards the older gentleman, waiting patiently for the item to be brought out into the open. She had the paperwork in hand, as always, although it was usually not necessary to produce it. Flashing her business card as a Sterling Bosch investigator was usually plenty and most often, fences scattered in an awful hurry at the sight of the small piece of identification.

She gave Joe a silent signal and slowly moved towards the booth, just as Jake produced the item to show his client. The two men suddenly looked up at this large, waddling woman coming towards them and wondered what the hell she wanted; they didn't have to wait long to find out.

'Good evening, gentlemen' she said with poise as she closed in on them

Joe stood behind Lydia, watching her work and marvelling at her confidence despite her currently fragile condition. She flashed her business card and sensed the sudden uneasiness emanating from Jake, who obviously wanted to get out of there – pronto. The buyer on the other hand, seemed totally taken aback. He was obviously a newbie, maybe fronting for the real buyer. In any case, Lydia didn't care; all she wanted was to walk out of the place with the medallion in her hands.

'I believe that medallion is the property of Sterling Bosh' she said, her voice strong despite the fact she could feel another contraction coming on

Jake took advantage of her obvious discomfort to slip out of the booth and she and Joe watched as he made a mad dash for the front door. He couldn't believe this was happening again – a third time in recent months and always with the same insurance company. Lydia picked up the item from the table, returning it to its wrapping and staring down the older gentlemen.

'Hope you hadn't put a deposit on this' she said snarkily as he looked on in total shock

Regardless of his lack of experience, he realized he was better off just exiting, something he did in record time, grabbing his small case with him and returning to whatever rock he'd crawled out from under.

Lydia just looked at Joe with delight. 'And that's how it's done'

WCWCWC

Hope drove herself and her brother home and let them both into the house, making sure to lock up as instructed. She made her way up to her bedroom and cosyed up on her bed with Raffie lying nearby, obviously in need of a cuddle. She indulged him, grabbing her phone with her other hand and noting a text had come in. She smiled as she read the name of the sender.

'I'm glad u invited me tonight'

'I'm glad u came'

'So, Saturday night'

'Yeah'

'How about we grab a bite first?'

'Sounds good'

'We can leave from the gallery'

'Okay'

'Sleep tight'

'U too!'

She fell back on her bed with a goofy smile on her face; it was still there when she finally fell asleep an hour later.

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Neal made his way over the bridge for the second time that day; he glanced at the clock. It was 9:15 and he wondered in passing if he should have given Sara some warning of his imminent arrival. He wanted to surprise her; see her face light up when he walked in. He remembered the feeling of delight when he'd seen her walk into the gallery unannounced two nights before; his heart had skipped a beat and he hoped Sara would feel the same way when she saw him appear unexpectedly. She would still be toiling away, of that he was sure; she always texted before leaving the office, something they had gotten into the habit of doing years ago.

His stomach was still doing flip flops but at least it was empty now, and unlikely to require an emergency visit to the washroom.

He smiled as he thought of Sara – she still did it for him after all this time.

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'Any problems?' Sara asked as she stood to greet her two employees

'None whatsoever' said Lydia, waving the package in front of her boss's eyes

'Thanks a lot for acting as backup, Joe' said Sara as she smiled at the young man

'It was my pleasure' he said, fake smile plastered on his face

He bid them goodnight and made his way out into the night, leaving the two women behind and mentally spending every one of those $10,000 he'd just made. It was going to be a hell of a weekend!

Sara watched as Lydia slowly opened up the paper package, revealing the beautiful medallion which depicted a woman's face, looking sideways – similar to a Camay. Insurance recovery was a business like any other but both Sara and Lydia had originally been attracted to their jobs because of their love and appreciation of beautiful art and it was always a privilege to be able to handle a recovered item and spend a few minutes admiring it before having to put it into storage.

The protocol was simple. A preliminary report was filed and the item was brought up to the 38th floor for safe storage while it was authenticated and eventually reunited with its owner. In the case of museums or galleries, it always took several days, even weeks, for the transfer to take place as paper work was exchanged and safe transportation was arranged. At any given time, there might be dozens of very expensive pieces stored in the building and Sterling Bosch took great care in keeping the items safe.

Sara had begun on the report even before the return of her underlings, filling out such things as date and time of recovery, name of investigator and supervisor and other sundry details; all that was left was a cursory account of the takedown. Once the item was processed, the investigator would proceed to writing up a more detailed report (the thorn in every investigator's side) which would make its way to Sara's office and eventually up the line to the bigwigs.

The women sat huddled in Sara's office as Lydia dictated and her boss typed away at her computer; they made a great team. The younger woman stopped on two occasions as she caught her breath, dealing with more contractions and Sara winced as she heard her friend's breathing waver.

'Is Sam picking you up?' Sara asked, concerned

'Yeah, I texted him. He should be here soon' responded Lydia

'Needless to say, your leave of absence begins immediately' said Sara, her voice serious

'But -' Lydia began

'No, buts' answered Sara, sounding more like a mom than a boss 'You're done. Go home and nest'

Lydia smiled; she knew Sara was right. As much as she was nervous and apprehensive about the next stage of her life, she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.

Sara glanced at the clock; it was almost nine thirty and she didn't want to keep Leroy waiting any longer than necessary. Lydia insisted on going along and finishing the job and between contractions, they made their way to the elevator on the 31st floor where their offices were located and headed up to the 38th where they would bring this chapter of the recovery to its appropriate end.

WCWCWC

The three men made their way up 47th Street towards the building which housed the offices of Sterling Bosh. Their informant had been clear: the security guard was on duty until 8:00. After that, it was simply a matter of disarming the security system which Pete felt reasonably comfortable doing. There was a chance that even disarmed, the alarm was rigged to notify police of a break-in; at least, there wouldn't be a loud, shrill ringing bell in their ears as they worked. They had agreed to be in and out in the time it took for the 11th precinct to react to the warning. Pete had timed the route from the nearest precinct to the offices of Sterling Bosh on three separate occasions and he knew exactly how much time they had to do their smash and grab before the police intervened.

Of course, neither he nor his brother were connoisseurs of fine art but they would have to go by instinct and grab as much loot as they could comfortably carry in one trip. Fortunately, he knew that bigger didn't mean better or more expensive so they had agreed to target jewels or smaller items. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears as they got closer; this was such a rush. They'd already begun to fence some of the items from their previous bust and the money had been very good, indeed; a fact that urged him on in wanting to repeat the experience.

He glanced nervously at his kid brother; he was a bit of a loose cannon, a worrier and too much of a soft heart for his own good. That was okay, Pete would show him the ropes and make sure he was safe. He'd promised their mom on her deathbed that he'd take care of his little brother and making him independently wealthy seemed like a good place to start.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

'Leroy, hi!' said Sara as she approached the small desk just outside the recovery room

'Ms Ellis, it's been a while' he answered as he glanced over at the very pregnant woman standing by Sara

'Leroy, this is one of my investigators, Lydia Jordan' Sara said, introducing her friend

'Nice to meet you' Leroy said, standing to shake her hand

Although investigators went in and out of the recovery room regularly, they didn't visit quite as often as someone in Sara's position did and the young woman couldn't remember ever meeting Leroy Winston on her previous visits.

'Leroy is head of security and he's covering for one of his staff tonight' Sara explained 'and we've already kept him late so...'

Sara took the logbook from Leroy's outstretched hand and signed herself and Lydia in and the women made their way inside the inner chamber, totally oblivious to the fact that there would be three of them coming out by the end of the night.

WCWCWC

'Put your mask on!' instructed Pete Milville as they stepped into one of the back entrances to the building

There were several businesses in the large office block and a door man was present twenty four hours a day at the main door on 47th Street. Pete had been practicing with his trusty lock pick set for months now and had the whole thing down to an art. Of the four doors exiting the back of the building, three of them were emergency exits with no way in but as per the NY fire regulation code, one door had a lock and Pete had done his homework, closing in on it and making quick work of the lock before slipping in and pulling his kid brother in behind him.

'But there's nobody here' whined Johnny

'Cameras' Pete whispered, pointing up to a security camera in the corner

They had both been in the building four times before, professing to deliver packages or to have an appointment and they had actually been on the 38th floor and seen the layout for themselves. Pete pulled Johnny along as they made their way over to the elevator and pressed the up button, Johnny fidgeting next to his big brother. At age 19, this was the big times and he still wasn't sure whether or not he was up to the task. They had done well at Rand and Sons but that was mostly due to Pete's composed demeanor; Johnny had just followed orders but he had to admit it had been a rush to see all that great loot and be able to just reach out and grab for it.

The elevator door opened and the men stepped in, ready to make a killing...

WCWCWC

Leroy sat at the desk waiting for Sara and Lydia to return from their little foray inside the recovery room. They'd been in there less than a minute when he heard the familiar swoosh of the elevator door opening and closing. He was attuned to all those noises after years on the job and his ears perked up in response to the unexpected sound. The 38th floor housed some of the bigwigs at Sterling Bosh and not much else – a couple of large meeting rooms, washrooms and the recovery room; no one should be up here at this time of the night. He placed his finger on the silent alarm situated under his small desk – the one that rang directly at the 11th precinct of the NYPD, located less than three miles away. He placed his other hand on his service revolver which he had never had to use in all his years in security and he silently prayed that he would not have to use it on this night.

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'Good evening' said the doorman as Neal strode in

'Good evening' Neal responded, his usual smile firmly in place

Neal recognized the man from his regular trips to Sterling Bosh, a young guy who usually worked weekends or evenings; probably a college student working his way through school. Although they didn't know each other by name, the young doorman had seen Neal and Ms Ellis leaving the building together on many occasions.

'Your wife working late tonight?' he asked as Neal breezed by

'Yeah, thought I'd surprise her with a ride home' Neal answered as he continued on his way to the elevator

'Have a good night' said the young man

'See you in a few minutes' Neal responded

WCWCWC

Pete and Johnny Milville walked gingerly through the halls of the 38th floor on their way to their treasure trove feeling reasonably certain they were the only ones on the floor. The place was quiet and they moved purposefully, their hands on their guns, just in case. They turned the corner and stared in horror at the sight of Leroy Winston, standing there, gun drawn, staring them down.

Both men reacted immediately, pulling out their guns, Johnny's hands nervously grasping the unfamiliar firearm. Although Pete had been dragging him to target practice for weeks, he still didn't like the feel of the gun in his hands but he stood with his feet firmly in place, his hands steady as his big brother spoke.

'Put that thing down and nobody gets hurt' Pete said as he stared down Leroy

'I think you have that the other way around' answered Leroy, trying to sound much braver than he felt

He suddenly remembered that Sara and Lydia were still inside and could be coming out at any moment. He had to deal with the situation before things escalated. Luckily, he'd already activated the silent alarm under his desk and he knew that he needed less than five minutes before the police arrived; if he could just stall them, he'd be home free.

'Now!' screamed Pete as he made a threatening move with his gun

Leroy wavered for brief instant and Pete let off a shot, hitting him in the shoulder as the older man fell to the ground, obviously in pain.

'Tie him up' said Pete, breathlessly to his kid brother

Johnny took the ties from his brother and moved tentatively towards the older man who was writhing on the ground.

'Is the alarm off?' Pete yelled

Leroy looked on helplessly as he nodded. At this point, all he could hope for was that the men would go in and out quickly and have the decency to leave the two women alone. He prayed that Sara and Lydia had heard the commotion and had taken refuge in one of the smaller rooms that lined the narrow hallway towards the main recovery room.

WCWCWC

Peter Burke sat at home with his feet up on the couch, beer in hand and catching up on the news. He still loved to read the paper as a means of getting his daily fix; somehow it felt real to be able to hold it in his hands, feel the newsprint, smell the last lingering remnants of ink. Elizabeth was upstairs doing something, he wasn't sure what. Instinctively, he looked around the room for Satchmo even though the dog had been gone now for several years – he couldn't quite break the habit of looking for him when he walked into the house or settled down on the couch to read or watch television.

He'd been in to the Federal Building earlier in the day and Jones had promised to keep him posted if anything broke in the insurance theft case. These guys had been flying under the radar – relative unknowns – and there hadn't been any trail of them so far. But Peter knew that if they got the buzz after their first successful heist, they would inevitably strike again; it was just human nature and he knew how criminal minds worked all too well.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Neal; he hoped his best friend was going to be alright. He'd looked rough around the edges when he'd seen him the day before, having seemingly lost that laid-back, nothing-can-get-to-me attitude he was so well known for. Neal had seemed tense and as evidenced by his pallor and lack of energy, it was obvious that he wasn't physically well. Sara had called and asked Peter if he could spare a few hours so that Neal could make it to NYU without having to break a sweat and he'd been happy to lend a hand. The gallery was a very pleasant place to spend time, surrounded by beautiful art with the odd interruption as a customer came in. He needed to keep his eye on things and maybe even cover for Neal at the gallery on a regular basis.

Peter looked down at his phone perched on the coffee table; he still hadn't broken the habit of keeping it nearby even though he was no longer heading up the white collar division, having left that dubious honor to one Clinton Jones. He glanced down at it, half hoping something would break on the case – it always got his blood pumping to be involved in solving a new mystery. He jumped when the phone rang, as if his musings had caused it to, and he was surprised to see it was indeed Jones calling him.

'You still want in on the case, Peter?' his friend asked, somewhat breathless

'You know I do' answered Peter, suddenly sitting up

'Break-in in progress at Sterling Bosch' Jones said

Peter was up like a shot, calling out to El. He grabbed his coat and was out the door in record time.

WCWCWC

Neal got off the elevator on the 31st floor and made his way directly to Sara's office. It was eerily quiet at this time of night and he walked briskly, half expecting to hear Sara's voice echoing in the bare halls. He stepped into the outer office where his wife's assistant, Jenny, toiled daily and strode directly into Sara's office, a large workspace with a small conference table and chairs tucked into one side and her large desk looming by the window. No Sara. He looked around to see if there was any evidence as to whether she'd left without calling him first and he immediately spotted her coat hanging on the coat rack and her briefcase by the side of her desk. She was somewhere in the building, that was for sure.

It was late and Lydia was probably back from her recovery; there was only one place she could be, he realized: up in the 38th floor recovery room. He wondered if he should send her a quick text but thought better of it; there was still a chance he could surprise her.

WCWCWC

'Was that a gunshot?' Sara asked, looking worriedly at her friend who was in the throes of another contraction

Lydia looked on helplessly; she had enough to deal with at the moment. Sara thought about the break-in at Rand and Sons and suddenly had the worse feeling; they were being hit and if she didn't want herself and Lydia to be collateral damage, she needed to get them out of the way and fast.

'Can you stand up?' she asked Lydia who had temporarily taken a seat while she weathered her most recent contraction

Lydia nodded in response, holding her stomach and moaning as she tried to stand. Sara held her up, guiding her towards the first room to their left – a small workroom where they usually carried out repairs on damaged items. Sara briefly thought back to the last time she'd stepped into that room – about four years before – when Neal had dragged her in for an impromptu make out session.

'Come on' she said, pulling her in and grabbing a chair for her friend to sit down on

Sara closed the door behind them just as she heard a ruckus in the main room; someone obviously moving around. She heard men's voices, speaking urgently and loudly, one man exhorting the other to grab things and put them in a bag.

She turned towards Lydia, who was writhing on her chair, moaning softly when suddenly she noticed the small puddle at her friend's feet.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

June was finally transferred to the palliative care unit where she was welcomed by seasoned, caring staff who were obviously sensitive to what the patients' families were going through. Neal and Lorna both felt strangely reassured that she was in good hands and they sat together and prepared a schedule so that June would have someone with her for the foreseeable future, at least during the daytime hours. Neal had read that the average stay at the unit was 8.3 days and he wondered in passing if June's stay would be above the average or if she would be leaving them soon to finally join Byron. The main thing was that she not suffer needlessly; it was selfish to want to keep her with them for the sake of being in her presence; the loving memory of June Ellington would linger indefinitely in their hearts, of that he was certain.

Although Neal would have liked to camp out by June's bedside 24/7, that was not a realistic option. He had the kids to think about and he couldn't continue to ignore his responsibilities at the gallery. Peter was carrying most of the load and Neal felt he had to do _some _of the work – albeit much less than his usual contribution. On top of that, although Liam was on the mend, Neal wanted to keep a close eye on him and the last thing he wanted was for Sara to have to drop everything and come home.

It was almost ten o'clock before he and Hope finally arrived home to find Mozzie snoozing on the hideaway bed in the family room and Liam sound asleep in his room. Mozzie reassured Neal that Liam was doing much better: he'd had dinner, his fever had all but disappeared and his blood sugar numbers were stable. That was a huge relief for Neal who thought back to the night before when he'd found Liam on the verge of a diabetic coma. He hoped for a less eventful night for both his son and himself and he sent Hope up to bed thanking her for all she'd done.

He was bone weary, wondering where he'd get the energy to face the next few days. Except for a quick text to give Sara the latest news, he hadn't talked to his wife in over twenty four hours and he looked forward to hearing her loving voice before he let sleep claim him. He settled into bed, the phone cradled against his ear as he waited for her to pick up.

'I was hoping you'd call' she said, sounding tired herself

'Was there ever any doubt?' Neal asked rhetorically

'So, how are _you_, my wonderful husband?' she asked as he smiled

'Tired. It's been quite an eventful day' Neal answered as he let his weary head fall back on the pillow - her pillow, the one with Sara's comforting and unique fragrance of lavender

He hadn't shared the events of the previous night with Sara; he knew her all too well and he was certain she would have hopped on a plane and come home if she'd known just how sick Liam was. He'd confess - eventually - but now wasn't the time.

'Is June all settled in?' Sara asked

'Yeah, she's peaceful, heavily sedated though. That palliative care unit is incredible – all the staff is so caring' he said, his eyes closing

'Neal, I want to come home' she suddenly said, her voice sullen

'No!' he answered adamantly 'Sorry...' he added '...of course you can come home but you don't _need_ to come home, not for me anyway'

'What about June?' Sara asked, obviously worried

'I don't know, honey. It's a crapshoot. She could last a few days, a few weeks... no one knows for sure' Neal responded

Sara sighed on the other end of the line. It was so hard to know what was best. Leaving the conference before her presentation would not be a smart move as far as her job was concerned and there would be consequences but she hated to think that June might pass away before she made it back. Mostly, she wanted to be there for Neal, to support him through this rough time.

'Sara?' Neal said, his voice rough

'Yeah?'

'I miss you. Our bed is cold without you' he said, his voice a lament

'Oh, Neal! Why don't you just close your eyes and go to sleep' she said

'Mmm' he moaned his eyes closed 'I want to hear your voice a little while longer. Tell me something... anything'

Sara let out a soft laugh at the other end of the phone. He was such a romantic and she knew exactly what he wanted – and needed – to hear.

'Neal Caffrey, I love you. You are the most wonderful, loving, caring man I've ever met' she said, meaning every single word of the sappy declaration

'Oh, yeah? You forgot sexy' he said with a devilish grin

'Oh... and sexy' she added, her voice languid

With that, Neal smiled and finally hung up, hoping for sweet dreams.

WCWCWC

On Tuesday morning, Liam was looking almost well enough to go back to his regular activities but Neal suggested he stay out of school one more day just to give himself a chance to fully recover.

'Can we visit Grandma June today, then?' the pre-teen asked as they finished up lunch

'I was going to drop in on her anyway, I guess I could drag you along' said Neal as he playfully poked his son in the ribs

'I have something I want to give her' said Liam, mysteriously

Neal looked at his son, a puzzled look on his face.

Liam's mind seemed to wander and all of a sudden he spoke up, an unexpected question on his lips.

'Dad, how did you _meet _Grandma June?' asked Liam, seemingly out of the blue

'You never heard that story?' Neal asked as Liam shook his head

Neal smiled as he recalled the circumstances surrounding their chance meeting – how destiny had intervened that day in the little thrift shop in Manhattan. Liam knew all about his dad's stint in prison and Neal was thankful that that part of the narrative was incidental to the story he was about to share. He recounted how June had walked into the shop and how he'd been curious when he'd seen her pull out all those fancy suits. He described how he'd felt an instant connection to her and how she'd told him about Byron's love for the finer things in life. He left out June's confession that Byron had won the Devore suit in a backroom poker game with Sy Devore himself – no sense in his son knowing _those_ details about his beloved grandma.

'_Do you live nearby?' Neal asked as he tried on the gorgeous vintage suit_

'_Not far' June responded as Neal smiled his best conman smile_

'_Would you like to come over for a cup of coffee?' she asked_

_Neal looked at the woman he'd just met and wondered what her angle was. She didn't know him from Adam – not even his name – and yet, she was inviting him back to her house for coffee; she was either very naive, an easy mark or maybe she was looking to con him herself – either way, Neal was intrigued. What could a woman of wealth possibly be thinking inviting a total stranger into her home? The little angel on his shoulder kept yelling at him to tell her to run the other way – as far away as possible from Neal Caffrey, conman extraordinaire._

'_Sure!' Neal responded. He was curious as to her motives and sharing a cup of coffee with this delightful woman sure beat going back to that fleabag hotel until he absolutely had to. _

_They made their way towards the mansion on Riverside Drive, June lacing her arm in Neal's as they walked. They talked about the last play June had seen at the Imperial Theatre and they discussed the merits of Italian roast versus the poor quality blends which were all the rage in fancy coffee houses. Finally the woman looked over at Neal with a smile._

'_By the way, I'm June, June Ellington' she said_

'_Neal... Caffrey' he responded, although why he'd hesitated he wasn't quite sure. It wasn't as if he was pulling a con or anything. Or was he?_

'_So Neal Caffrey, what were you doing in that thrift shop just now?' she asked_

_Neal was usually quick with a response but he took a second to mull things over as a half dozen scenarios played in quick succession in his head: he could be a down on his luck guy who'd just lost his job recently or maybe a poor hapless man whose wife had left him alone and bereft or perhaps some fellow who was recovering from a serious illness... He could play the sympathy card; see what this refined older lady could do for him. But surprisingly, even to himself, when he finally spoke, something entirely unexpected spilled out._

'_I was released from prison today' he said, instantly wishing he could take it back and tell her something else_

'_Prison?' she said without faltering, her arm still firmly laced in his_

'_I was given early release to__ work for the white collar division of the FBI. I was sentenced to four years for bond forgery and I'm kind of... well, I'm kind of an expert on forgeries all around so they want me to work off the rest of my sentence helping them catch some bad guys' he said, finding the words flowing more effortlessly now. He momentarily slowed the pace and lifted his left pant leg revealing his new piece of jewelry as she looked on with interest._

_As surprised as he was that he was actually sharing this information, Neal was even more shocked at June's reaction – or in this case, lack thereof. She was behaving as if what he'd just confessed was the most natural of explanations as to why someone would be foraging for people's hand me downs in a thrift shop._

'_Well, Neal, I can see you're a man with discriminating tastes' she said_

_He smiled as he looked at her. How had she been able to detect his appreciation for the finer things in life when he was standing there in front of her in an old weathered overcoat with a GPS tracking anklet on his leg, he wondered._

_They arrived at the house and the easy banter continued. The place was incredible – obviously the most majestic home in the neighborhood. June explained how the house had been home to her husband Byron and their two girls and how he'd died a few years back leaving her with the means to live her life as she pleased. She shared the fact that Byron had not always been a boy scout and suddenly the kindred spirits began to bond as they shared a cup of what Neal was discovering to be the finest Italian roast he'd ever tasted. An hour later, after some negotiation, they had come to an agreement: Neal would move into June's guest room in exchange for doing some odd jobs around the house, making both of them very happy indeed. _

The rest, as they say, was history.

Neal sat back as he watched Liam's face – of course, he'd sanitized the story just a little to make it more palatable for an impressionable young mind but basically the story was the same: a story about a chance meeting that had evolved into a lifetime of love and respect for this incredible woman who would eventually become his children's grandmother and godmother to his only son. He still owed this wonderful woman so much.

'I like it' Liam said, approvingly

'Well, I'm glad you like it, buddy. I guess you should always go with your instincts. Grandma June understood that from the very beginning' Neal said

'So, you ready to leave soon?' he asked as he stood to gather the lunch dishes

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

'Turn around so I can see you!' yelled Pete Milville, voice impatient

Sara gently placed the phone down just out of sight, leaving the line open and hoping that Neal would figure things out quickly and relay any information he heard to the police. He was smart and he was resourceful and he would find a way to help them out of this mess, of that she was certain.

'Look, you have your loot, just go' she said, pointing to the bag overflowing with valuable art lying nearby

'Shut up!' he answered

'Pete, what are we gonna do? We're trapped in here' said Johnny, panic setting in

'You shut up too and let me think' Pete said to his baby brother

Johnny looked around, his eyes coming to rest on Lydia who was lying there, breathing roughly, clutching Sara's hand desperately. The woman was obviously in pain and he suddenly felt a jolt of sympathy for her situation.

'That lady's going to have her baby, Pete' he said, his voice shrill

'Look, Johnny, these two are our ticket out of here. The police aren't going to let anything happen to them so they're not going to be storming the place anytime soon' said Pete, trying to figure out an exit plan

'Do you think we killed him?' Johnny asked, upset

'Who? The guard? No' answered Pete with a strident laugh 'I got him in the shoulder'

They could hear a commotion up the hallway leading to the waiting area, sounded like a gurney being rolled in.

'By now, they know that the women are in here and it buys us some time to figure out what to do' said Pete

'Excuse me for interrupting, gentlemen – and I use the term loosely – but my friend here needs immediate medical help. Unless you want her to have the baby right here on the floor, you've got to let her go. I'll stay behind' said Sara

'Be quiet, lady. I decide who's going where and when' Pete said, pacing nervously around the room

'Can you at least put the gun down?' she pleaded, looking at Johnny

Pete gave his brother the signal to lower his firearm and the younger man let out a sigh of relief.

Lydia was panting loudly; the contractions were coming closer together and they were definitely more intense. Sara recognized the signs and was terrified that any minute, she would need to start to push. Although she'd given birth to two babies herself, she was by no means a card-carrying member of the Order of Midwives and she didn't care for a crash course. She continued to hold her friend's hand, feeling Lydia's nails digging into her skin. She had a fleeting thought for Neal, holding her hand while she gave birth to their two kids and suddenly understood the concern and helplessness he must have been feeling at the time. All she could do was to stay by her friend's side, stay positive and support her through the pain.

WCWCWC

A small group of men stood around Neal's phone as they listened to the goings-on a few feet away. Sara seemed to be doing an excellent job keeping everyone calm but Neal could see that Sam Jordan was about to jump out of his skin.

'You've got to get Lydia out of there' he whispered urgently, mindful that if he spoke too loudly his voice might be picked up by the two thieves inside the room

'It must be hot under those masks, huh?' they could hear Sara saying 'Aren't you two hot?'

Peter looked at Neal and gave him a knowing smile. Sara was trying to give them as much information as she could about the two men. From the conversation, they knew that there were two of them, one named Pete – the obvious leader – and the other Johnny, that they were both armed and that they were wearing balaclavas.

'Lady, you talk too much' said the first man whom they'd deduced from the conversation was named Pete

The men could hear Lydia's labored breathing through the phone and Sam's face scrunched up in sympathy at the sound of his wife suffering. Neal put a comforting hand on his shoulder in a show of solidarity and Sam looked up at him, his face contorted. Neal could only imagine how _he_ would feel if Sara was the one in labor a few feet away and he couldn't be by her side to comfort her. It was bad enough to know that she was being held at gunpoint without the added stress of hearing her in the throes of labor.

He covered the handset so his voice couldn't be heard from inside and turned to Jones and Peter.

'Let me go in and try to talk them down' he pleaded, his face glistening from the pain which continued to radiate insistently from his stomach

Jones shook his head insistently. 'They've already got two hostages; I'm not sending in another one in' he whispered, adamant

Neal's mind wandered. There had to be something he could do; it wasn't the first time he'd walked into a hostage situation. He recalled the time he'd gone in to the loading dock at the Kent Hotel where armed thieves were holding Sara – of course he hadn't known at the time that Sara was the hostage, not until he walked in and realized in horror that his wife was being held at gunpoint, tied to a chair. He'd masqueraded as a maintenance guy in order to give the FBI ears on the situation and he'd managed to talk the thieves down. Of course, back then, he'd been working for the FBI but still, he couldn't stand by listening to Lydia's suffering and seeing the look of anguish on Sam's face and not do anything.

Jones and Peter exchanged looks. Neal was right on that score; establishing contact in this sort of situation was essential in order to negotiate some sort of settlement and have the hostages released unharmed. Peter watched as Jones reflected; he'd always had tremendous respect for the man but Clinton had always been his underling in the past. To see him in a leadership role was new for Peter and he watched with interest as Jones continued to work out the best way to deal with the delicate operation.

WCWCWC

'Sara, I'm scared' said Lydia, breathless between two walloping contractions

Sara sat next to her, with her friend's head on her lap, softly running her hand through her hair and holding on tightly to her hand.

'I know. It's going be okay. I'm not leaving you' whispered Sara, trying to sound reassuring

'What if the baby comes?' Lydia cried

'Shh, shh. Just breathe, okay. Let me take care of things; all you have to do is stay calm and think about your beautiful baby' said Sara, trying desperately to sound confident

Lydia was crying softly, tears running down her face and her breath hitched suddenly as another contraction hit, even stronger than the previous ones and she moaned and let out a scream.

'Pete, she's gonna have this baby!' Johnny screamed in alarm

'Johnny, shut the hell up and let me think' he screamed back

Realizing he had no choice but to negotiate a way out, he raised his gun and ordered Sara to stand up.

'You, not-pregnant lady, get up' he yelled as Sara looked nervously at Lydia

She didn't want to leave her friend's side even for a moment but the gun that was being waved in her face was enough of a motivation and she stood, her legs shaking, looking down at Lydia who seemed so small and vulnerable lying there on the floor.

'You walk down that hall and tell them I want to talk to somebody about getting out of here' he yelled, brandishing the gun and pointing her in the direction of the exit.

'...and remember I have a gun on your back, so no funny business' he added

Sara glanced over at Lydia one last time, crouching down to talk to her: 'I'll be right back, okay? Don't you have that baby until I get back' she said with a smile, touching her hair gently

Lydia whimpered in response, tears running down her face.

'Start walking, lady. I'm losing patience with you' said the man, his gun waving in Sara's face

WCWCWC

'They're sending Sara out' Jones announced as he continued to listen in on the other end of the phone line. He hurried over, positioning himself right by the end of the hallway leading to the inner room, out of sight of Pete Milville who stood at the other end, gun pointed at Sara.

Sara walked the ten or so steps towards the waiting room, slowly, purposefully, her legs unsteady as she moved. As she reached the end of the hallway, she got a glimpse into the waiting room and her eyes immediately went to Neal, whom she was stunned yet thrilled to see standing there, holding his phone and she realized that they had heard everything that had been said in the inner sanctum since she'd dialed his number. She became aware that there were almost a dozen people in the waiting room but her eyes remained glued on Neal who gave her a small smile of encouragement, willing himself to stay in place and not run over and just grab her.

'Tell them!' Pete Milville screamed behind her, his voice threatening

'They want you to send someone in to talk. No guns' she said, delivering the message with an even voice

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jones standing no more than two feet away to her right, out of sight, with his arm extended. All she had to do was take his hand and he would pull her to safety, away from the gun that was trained on her. She continued to look at Neal, silently communicating with him and he knew in that moment that she was not going to take that hand – she was going back in to be with Lydia and although he was terrified at the thought, he loved her even more for what she was about to do.

'Sara' Jones urged, his voice a whisper '... just take my hand'

She turned slowly in his direction and shook her head lightly, turning around in an almost robotic fashion and returning from where she'd come, back to the thugs, back to the danger, back to Lydia's side.

Neal closed his eyes, feeling the bile rising in his throat - he threw his phone at Peter and ran to the nearby washroom to empty his stomach.

WCWCWC

'See? I told you I'd be right back' said Sara, her voice controlled, as she resumed her earlier position by Lydia. She gently lifted the woman's head and placed it on her lap, smiling down encouragingly at her.

'Sara, I think the baby's coming' she said, crying

'Just keep breathing through the contractions. I'm going to have a look, okay?' said Sara, bravely as she stood to stand by her feet

She'd never been on the receiving end of childbirth but she'd given birth herself and she immediately recognized the imminent signs as she stared in disbelief at the baby's head beginning to crown.

'You' Sara said, authoritatively as she looked at Johnny 'go get some towels'

Johnny looked helplessly at his older brother who was slowly realizing that he had no control over the situation and Pete signaled his little brother to do as he'd been asked and get the towels from the small room where Sara and Lydia had been hiding. Pete continued to stand at the end of the hall, waiting for whoever was coming to negotiate with them, his gun drawn, ready for any dirty tricks by the police. His concentration was disrupted by a loud searing scream as Lydia shouted.

'Sara, Sara, I need to push!'

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Lydia's voice echoed through the phone in the waiting area and Sam began to move instinctively towards the recovery room, intent on making his way in to be with his wife. She was about to give birth and he couldn't care less about the circumstances; he was going to be by her side, no matter what. Neal returned from his little side trip to the lavatory just in time to see Peter grabbing the young man, holding him back as he struggled to get free.

'Let me go!' he screamed loudly as he tried to pull away

Neal came to stand on the other side of him and took hold of his arm; Sam dashing off on his white horse would only exacerbate an already explosive situation.

'Sam! Sam, stop! We're going to get them out' Neal said, feeling slightly dizzy from his recent efforts in the washroom

Sam seemed to respond to Neal's voice and stopped momentarily, staring at the men on either side of him.

'If you don't calm down, they're going to _make _you leave' Neal whispered to him, an incentive for the father-to-be to remain composed

Sam took a deep breath and let Neal lead him a few feet away and sit him down in one of the armchairs in the waiting room.

'Look, I know how you feel. My wife's in there too. But these people' Neal said, pointing to the contingent of police officers and FBI agents in the room '...they know how to handle situations like this'

Sam stared at Neal, a vacant look in his eyes. He knew Neal was right but there was very little reasoning happening in his muddled mind as his emotions overtook any possible logical thought.

'How would you feel if Sara was in there having _your_ baby? Don't tell me you wouldn't do anything you could to get to her' he said, his voice faltering

'I understand. But we don't know what those guys are capable of. They're armed, Sam, and they could take it out on Lydia or Sara if this isn't handled properly. Don't you think I wanted to just grab Sara when she came out earlier? But that'll just get someone hurt or worse yet, killed. Look, I trust these people; Peter Burke is the best FBI agent I've ever known and Clinton Jones is a close second. Let them work this out, okay?'

Sam listened, as Neal's words began to seep into his psyche and he finally looked up at his friend, eyes watery and gave him a small nod.

'Okay. I'm okay' he said, finally

WCWCWC

The relative quiet in the inner room was interrupted by Sam's voice as it reverberated through Sara's phone and Pete Milville looked up with alarm, wondering where the voice was emanating from.

'Where did that come from?' he screamed at Sara

Sara looked on, innocently, as Pete began to poke around, realizing that, somehow, she had managed to use her phone to call out. Whoever she'd called was obviously standing right outside the room and had been listening to everything that was going on.

'Why you little bitch!' he yelled at her, slapping her across the face in a fit of anger 'Where's the phone?'

Lydia let out a whimper at the sight of her friend being struck but Sara just stared back at him, impassive; she had to stay calm and focussed for Lydia's sake and she returned to caring for her friend as Pete began furiously moving things around, looking for the phone. He finally spotted it, off to the side and he grabbed at it, angrily.

'Whoever this is, if you want to see these women alive, I want you to send someone in here right now, do you hear me – unarmed with their hands in the air. We want out of here and if you can't make that happen, nobody's walking out of here alive! You've got two minutes!' he screamed into the phone before throwing it across the room in a fit of rage.

Sara wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth and watched in horror as the phone bounced off the wall and Johnny took a step back to avoid being hit by the flying object.

Lydia shrieked in pain once more.

WCWCWC

Clinton Jones sat huddled with Josh Martinez, discussing strategy. The SWAT team was being assembled and would soon be deployed but it would take a good ten minutes to get them there and they were running out of time as far as Lydia was concerned. Having her baby without any proper medical intervention was a risky thing for both mother and child and Jones turned to Peter and Neal, inviting them to a corner of the room, away from the rest of the group. A team of paramedics had been summoned and stood nearby, waiting for the moment when it would become safe to intervene.

'The SWAT team is on its way but it's going to take a few minutes for them to get here' Jones whispered. 'How much time do you think we have before that baby is born?' he asked his mentor

Peter looked over at Neal – childbirth wasn't his field of expertise.

'If she's saying she needs to push, we've already run out of time' Neal said, the only man in the threesome with even a remote measure of experience in the delivery room

He looked from Peter to Jones before adding: 'Look, I can do this, I can go in, figure out exactly what's happening, be your go-between. I can assess the situation and buy us a bit of time before they do anything that can't be undone. If I can at least get them to release Lydia...'

Clinton looked at Peter, silently pleading for his take on the matter. In the absence of the SWAT team, he knew Neal had the best chance of anyone in the room at reasoning with the thieves and keeping things on an even keel.

'Are you sure you're up to this?' Peter asked with concern 'You look a little rough'

'I'm fine' Neal answered, dismissively 'I just want this over with'

The two FBI agents looked at each other, realizing their choices were few; Neal's offer was tempting and at the moment, it seemed like the best alternative among very limited options. Within seconds, Jones produced a one way communication device and handed it to Neal who promptly placed it on his wrist – it was just like old times and despite the unrelenting pain in the pit of his stomach, he felt focussed and equal to the task.

'No heroics, Neal. Just find out what's going on in there and what it's going to take for them to walk out of here. Tell them we'll let them walk out with immunity if they release the hostages and leave without harming anyone' Clinton instructed

Neal nodded as he listened. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his mouth and willed his stomach to settle down. The room got quiet and everyone stood at attention, unsure of what was about to happen and Neal slowly made his way to the end of the hallway leading to the recovery room.

He took one more calming breath before speaking: 'I'm coming in' he called down the hall

WCWCWC

Sara's ears were still ringing from the stinging slap she'd just received and she shook her head as she heard the voice echoing down the narrow hall towards them. Was that Neal? Why did he always have to be the hero?

Pete raised his gun towards the voice and watched as Neal began to walk up the short hall towards them, his arms raised over his head. He'd been in the room a couple of times over the years but it had been a while and he mentally visualized the layout as he took the last few steps towards the gun that was aimed at him.

'Stop!' cried Pete as Neal froze and waited for the masked man to give him the go ahead

'Johnny, frisk him' he said, speaking to someone who was just out of Neal's field of vision

A second man appeared and walked towards him, gun tucked into his waistband. He ran his hands nervously up and down Neal's body, patting him down – obviously the poor guy's first pat down ever, Neal thought.

The man finally backed off and nodded to Pete who gestured with his gun for Neal to take the last few steps into the room. Neal's eyes surveyed the room and came to rest on the women who were tucked into a corner, Lydia lying down, her head cradled in Sara's lap. They both looked up as he stepped in all the way and Neal noticed the look of horror on Lydia's contorted face and Sara's furrowed brow and he immediately detected, with concern, a trickle of blood dripping from her cut lip.

'Let me check on them first' he said authoritatively pointing to the two hostages

'Make it quick' said Pete, his gun still aimed at Neal

Neal made his way to the two women and crouched down to their eye level. He looked into Lydia's face, trying to get a read on her state of mind and he furtively glanced at Sara, giving her a small wink and slipping a small piece of paper into her hand. She looked back at her husband, unwavering, and he drew strength from her, marvelling at her resilience in such horrendous circumstances. Lydia continued to moan and Sara turned her attention back to her, wiping her brow with a wet facecloth.

Sara glanced surreptitiously at the piece of paper Neal had handed her, noting with a small smile that it was destined for her friend – a few words of love and encouragement to help her through her ordeal. She leaned in towards Lydia, showing her the note from Sam: 'I love you DeeDee' it read.

Lydia let out a small gasp as she took in the message; a quiet noise that remained undetected considering it was immediately followed by a louder moan as her body continued to prepare to bring her baby into the world.

'That's enough. Now, you're going to get us out of here' Pete said, fed up with what he perceived to be a stalling tactic

'Let these ladies go and I'll walk you out to wherever you want to go' Neal said, turning to face the man

As he stood, he could feel his head spinning and by sheer force of will, he managed to stand upright, faltering ever so slightly. He needed to get this done and he was determined not to let this stomach thing get the better of him.

'You don't give the orders here. I don't see you holding a gun and two hostages' answered the masked man

'Well, it's going to be three hostages in a minute if you don't let this woman get out here and have her baby. _Anything_ could go wrong; do you want that on your conscience?' Neal asked, playing the sympathy card and hoping the men had at least one decent bone in their bodies.

He felt the man with the gun falter slightly at the notion and, although he wasn't able to get a look at his face, he could see his eyes searching the room and he surmised that the man was evaluating his options.

'Fine' he finally said, angry 'but just her. I'm keeping the redhead to help me walk out of here'

Neal's instinct was to argue but he thought better of it; one step at a time, he thought. If he could get them to let Lydia go, she could have her baby safely with Sam by her side. He'd work on getting Sara released once Lydia was safely on the other side. He looked over and noticed Sara nodding; she was up to it she was saying with her eyes.

'We need to get the EMT's in here right now to carry her out. Then, we'll talk about how you can leave without hurting anyone' said Neal, thankful for this first victory

'Fine, call for them' he said to Neal, pointing towards the hallway

Neal took a few tentative steps and was halfway down the narrow corridor when Pete yelled again: 'That's far enough' he said, his gun still pointed at Neal

'You can send the paramedics in!' Neal called up the hall

He turned to find Lydia lying on her own and Sara being dragged by the gunman who had a firm grip on her, her lip still bleeding. They made their way to another corner of the room, away from where the mom-to-be continued to moan and squirm.

'Get back here' he called sternly as Neal made his way to stand by them, away from Lydia.

The sound of a gurney could be heard coming up the narrow hallway and everyone looked up to see the EMT's as they arrived to tend to Lydia.

Neal's face froze as he took in the three paramedics entering the room – among the trio were two familiar faces: Peter Burke and Clinton Jones.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter13**

The tension inside the recovery room at Sterling Bosch was beyond palpable. The only sounds that could be heard were the rattling of the gurney as it was pushed down the hallway and the heavy breathing and moaning as Lydia Jordan rested briefly between two monster contractions. Otherwise, the place was eerily silent with everyone holding their breath as the situation unfolded and the balance of power began to shift ever so slightly.

Peter and Jones looked every bit the professionals in their newly issued paramedic uniforms, although Neal immediately noticed that the one Peter was wearing had 'flood pants' and a shirt whose buttons were about to burst – whoever had temporarily donated his uniform to the cause was a good three inches shorter and 25 pounds lighter than Peter Burke. Neal continued to breathe shallowly, the pain in his chest having returned with a vengeance; at least, he had Sara by his side and he wasn't left wondering as to her condition. He glanced at her, giving her a weak smile of encouragement and she did the same in return. His eyes were drawn to her mouth and she gingerly touched her lip which continued to bleed, small droplets trickling down to rest on that new Hermès silk blouse of hers – something, he knew, which would be really pissing her off.

The two thugs stared in silence, hypnotized by the sideshow as the paramedics wheeled in a gurney and immediately made their way towards the spot where Lydia Jordan lay alone, writhing in pain on the hard floor. One of the men (the real paramedic) kneeled down to speak to her briefly, reassuring her and checking her vital signs. Once he was satisfied that her situation was stable enough to move her, he motioned to Peter and together, they lifted her without hesitation onto the gurney and prepared to roll her out of the room, away from imminent danger. She moaned softly as she was lifted onto the makeshift bed and she was quickly covered up with a blanket, the men taking care to strap her in for the short journey she was about to take. The baby was coming any minute and she needed to be moved away from guns and angry men so she could deliver her newborn with a modicum of calm and dignity.

In the other corner of the room, the spectators watched mesmerized as the mother to be was prepared for her short trip down the hall. Sara let out a long sigh, relieved that her friend was finally getting the medical attention she needed to see her through the birth; she'd done her best and she hoped that Lydia could regain some composure for the last few minutes before her baby arrived. Giving birth was stressful at the best of times but no baby deserved to make his arrival into the world surrounded by chaos and confusion.

The two thugs, faces still hidden by their masks, stood immobile, Pete still holding his gun, although rather sluggishly, as he took in the scene – it wasn't every day that he witnessed a woman in the throes of labor. He was feeling restless; the faster they could get her out, the faster they could negotiate their exit taking along their hard-earned treasure and dragging the lady with the big mouth along as leverage. This whole scene had deteriorated into a nightmare and he briefly reflected that their days of hitting insurance companies for illicit goods might be coming to an end - maybe banks and museums were the way to go.

Neal and Sara exchanged worried looks. If Peter and Jones had entered the room, it was with a purpose in mind and Neal hated not being in on the plan. Whatever they had come up with had obviously been hatched spontaneously – as many effective plans often were – but he hadn't had the privilege of knowing their intentions. Whatever they were up to, he'd have to be quick in order to react appropriately when the moment came. He winced again at the pain in his chest which seemed to be intensifying and he realized he had to stay focussed, just a little bit longer.

The convoy slowly began to move towards the exit and Clinton, bringing up the rear, glanced at the group of four standing huddled together. He could see one visible gun, in Pete's hand, although it was hanging loose at his side as he continued to take in the sideshow. The other man looked totally overwhelmed by events and he stood behind Neal and Sara, listless, no gun visible. If there was ever going to be an opportunity to make a move, this was it.

Jones broke away from his colleagues and took a few decisive steps towards the group of four, looking determined and very 'paramedic-like'. Without falter, he zeroed in on Sara who continued to wipe her bleeding lip.

'What are you doing?' asked Pete, abruptly as Jones continued to advance towards them, seemingly unafraid

'I just want to check this woman's lip before I go' he answered, walking steadfastly towards them as if he had every right to – the courage of the righteous

'Whoa, whoa' said Pete, finally lifting his gun and waving it menacingly in Jones' direction

Neal held his breath; he hoped that Jones' gamble would pay off and that Pete wouldn't lose control and make use of that weapon. He could tell that the man was nervous about handling the firearm in the first place but this was exactly the kind of volatile situation that could lead to a gun being fired prematurely, injuring or killing someone. Jones' was banking on the fact that a paramedic would be perceived as trustworthy and not be deemed much of a threat by the two men.

Clinton continued, barely two feet away from the foursome, not letting the sight of the gun intimidate him, as he moved towards Sara, seemingly intent on checking on her condition. Pete watched in surprise, unsure how to react – he didn't want to gun down a paramedic if he could help it but this guy was getting too close and he instinctively took a step back.

Jones gave Neal a furtive glance – dammit, thought Neal, he's going to rush him and he needed to be ready with a similar move on Johnny. He just hoped that Pete's reflexes wouldn't be too quick with that loaded gun.

The gurney was disappearing slowly down the hall and Neal noticed that Peter was taking his time, hanging back, ready to act as backup. Neal held his breath and waited for the move he knew was inevitably coming, prepared to tackle Johnny who remained clueless, standing directly behind him.

Sara knew something was up but she had no control over the situation and she figured that she needed to trust Jones and go with the flow – he'd let her know, somehow, when the time came and she just stood, waiting for some move on his part.

The next few seconds were a blur of activity as Clinton Jones leaned in, ostensibly checking on Sara's injury, bending forward towards her, his back to Pete Milville. He nodded to Neal and in one swift move, Jones grabbed Sara's shoulders, pushing her out of harm's way and turned and elbowed Pete in the stomach, a move that was totally unexpected on his part and sent the gun flying as the man's hands instinctively went to his solar plexus where he'd just received a violent jolt.

Clinton took full advantage of the man's momentary unsteadiness to tackle him to the ground, hearing a loud whoosh of air leaving Pete's lungs as he fell hard. Without hesitation, Neal mirrored Jones' movement, leaning back into Johnny who was caught unawares and lost his footing, falling to the ground with a loud thud. Thankfully, Peter suddenly re-appeared, gun in hand as Neal held Johnny down with his foot on his chest. The way Neal was feeling, this was the extent of his physical prowess; the insistent ache was radiating in his chest, now making its way to his shoulders and back and he winced in pain.

'Don't make a move!' Peter yelled at Johnny as he lay powerless on the ground

Peter grabbed the man's gun, kicking it away as he lay there, arms up in the air, surrendering to the inevitable as Jones removed the balaclava from his brother and began to cuff him. Almost immediately, there was a thunderous noise as the four NYPD police officers stormed in, guns drawn, ready to take control of the scene as the two thugs lay helplessly on the ground.

Neal ran over to where Sara lay in a heap on the ground, having dragged herself a few feet away from the action and he put out his hand to help her up, instantly scooping her into arms as she stood, shaking violently – or was that him, he wondered as he held her close.

WCWCWC

The Sterling Bosch conference room had given birth to many discussions and exchanges of ideas over the years but on this particular night it was being used as a makeshift delivery room as Sam finally reunited with his wife to see her through the last of her contractions. The sight of her as she'd appeared coming out of that hallway had been a welcome relief for the dad to be as he'd run over to stand by her side.

'Lydia!' he called out at the sight of her 'I was afraid our daughter was going to make an appearance without me'

'Are you kidding? No way' she managed to respond, breathless

They were escorted into the conference room and, coached by a team of very competent paramedics, Sam watched in wonder as the miracle of life unfolded in front of his very eyes. Within ten minutes of her abrupt departure from the recovery room, she was holding their newborn daughter in her arms as her husband stood nearby, tears filling his eyes.

Despite the turmoil leading up to her arrival, little Beatrice Jordan seemed perfect and she wailed in the conference room, filling the room with new life and hope. A cheer erupted in the waiting room at the sound of her cries as FBI agents and NYPD officers finished cleaning up the crime scene.

WCWCWC

Lydia was finally wheeled away to get checked out in hospital and the 38th floor of the Sterling Bosch offices began to slowly return to normal after a most eventful evening. Neal and Sara sat together in the waiting room, debriefing with the rest of the team. Sara's lip had been seen to by a bona fide paramedic and Neal sat, holding her hand in a strong grip despite the pain which continued to persist deep in his gut. He was relieved that the ordeal was over although his heart continued to race in his chest, to his utter dismay. He was pale and his hands were shaking uncontrollably which did not go undetected by his wife and she looked at him with concern.

'We need to get you checked out – tonight!' she said, her voice adamant. She wasn't going to take no for an answer although, in his usual way, Neal tried to deflect.

'I'm good' he said, his voice faltering 'I promise I'll go to the doctor's tomorrow'

Peter and Sara exchanged worried looks. Neal's appearance had significantly deteriorated since they'd sat down – his forehead shiny with sweat, his skin pallid and pasty, his breathing uneven. There was no way either one of them was waiting until the next morning to have him checked out. Neal looked at their faces and attempted one of his patented Caffrey smiles to cover up, failing miserably as he strained to stand.

'Come on' he said to Sara, his voice faltering 'Let's go home'

He managed to get to his feet but his shaking legs didn't do their usual job of holding him up. Neal brought his hands to his chest, wincing in pain and, letting out a loud moan, he promptly crumpled to the ground.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

'Neal!' Sara screamed as she watched her husband collapse at her feet

He half sat, half lay there clutching his chest as he panted, trying desperately to collect himself.

'I'm... fine' he managed to eke out between shallow breaths

The rest of the group, reacting to the commotion, hovered around Neal as Sara kneeled by his side, urging him to lie down. Behind her, she could hear Peter on the phone already calling for an ambulance, the third one to be summoned to the Sterling Bosch offices on this Wednesday night.

'No... no ambulance!' Neal was attempting to say as he winced in pain

'Neal, stop being a hero' Sara said as she loosened his tie and took her jacket off once more to act as a makeshift pillow for him to lay his head on

'I... really... don't want to go... to ... hospital' he said looking up, his eyes pleading

'I know, honey, but this has gone on long enough. We have to have you checked out' Sara answered, her eyes full of worry and concern

Whatever was ailing Neal had been going on for several weeks now, getting increasingly worse and she figured that what she'd witnessed was probably just the tip of the iceberg; Neal was notorious for keeping those types of things to himself. He hated being doted on and preferred to suffer in silence when he wasn't feeling well.

'I'm fine' he attempted once again as he tried to sit up, Sara fighting him all the way

'Neal, you're being ridiculous. If there's nothing wrong, they'll just send you home' she insisted, a tone of urgency in her voice

Neal relented and let himself fall back, totally embarrassed to have friends and colleagues witnessing him in his current condition. The pain in his chest was not getting any better, however, and he tried to breathe through it, fighting for breath.

'It's... better... if I sit up' he croaked out finally

Sara looked at him with a look of skepticism – was this just another attempt at playing down the obvious distress he was in. Despite her doubts as to his sincerity, she helped him sit up, supporting his back and she watched as he took a large gulp of air into his starving lungs.

'That's... that's better' he said, catching his breath and holding on to her arm for support

'Alright, just sit here, okay? Until the ambulance comes' she instructed as she continued to hold on to him

This was as far as she was going to let him go; she was determined that he was not getting up from that spot until the ambulance arrived and he was taken to hospital to be properly checked out. Peter appeared in Neal's sight line, crouching down in front of him and noticing the sweat on his brow and his best friend's dilated pupils, a testament to the pain he was in.

'It won't be long buddy. Just hang tight' he said, hand on his shoulder

Neal nodded as he looked into his ex-partner's eyes. 'Totally unnecessary' he said, his voice rough

The evening had been fraught with tension and Neal had appeared to be weathering it all with his usual bravado despite the fact that he'd obviously been feeling under the weather. Peter knew that for Neal to collapse like this, especially in front of an audience, he had to be feeling totally incapable of dealing with the pain he was in. He'd seen both his uncle and his dad collapse from heart attacks and at the moment, he was worried that Neal was suffering the same fate. All the classic symptoms were evident: chest pain, sweating, trouble breathing and Peter prayed the ambulance would get there before things deteriorated any further.

Luckily, the wait was short lived and the EMT's arrived in five minutes flat. Peter recognized one of the paramedics from the first call they'd made that night – the one on behalf of Leroy Winston, the fallen head of security.

'Busy place' the paramedic muttered as he glanced at Peter, making his way towards Neal who was still settled next to Sara on the floor in the waiting room of the 38th floor.

Noticing that Neal was conscious, he and his partner, a young woman, crouched down to speak to the patient and get a handle on the situation.

'Can you tell us your name, sir?' he asked of Neal

'Neal' he responded, now feeling like a total idiot for having had the cavalry called in

'Are you in any pain, Neal?' he asked

'Yes' Neal grudgingly admitted as Sara looked on

'Where's the pain located?' asked the EMT

'In my chest and... shoulders' Neal responded

He was no fool and he, himself, feared he might be having some sort of a heart episode – something he dreaded. He was fit and healthy for a man his age; this just couldn't be happening to him, not now that he had everything he'd ever wanted including his long-awaited gallery.

'Do you think you can stand up if we give you a hand?' the young woman asked

'Of course I can stand up' Neal answered annoyed, looking pointedly at Sara

Although he knew she was just concerned about him, he wasn't an invalid and he could certainly walk the few steps to the damn stretcher so they could take him to the goddamn hospital. The EMT's supported him to stand and it took some self-control on Neal's part not to swat their hands away as he walked the few short steps, finally sitting up on the gurney and reluctantly letting himself be strapped in. The pain in his chest flared up again and he winced in pain as they lay him down. He could see the look of horror on Sara's face and he reached out his hand to hers, suddenly feeling guilty for what he was putting her through.

'Honey, I'm fine' he said, squeezing her hand 'Just meet me at the hospital, okay?'

Peter stood next to Sara, his arm around her shoulder. 'I'll make sure she gets there' he said as he looked up at the EMT's, the question obvious in his eyes

'Lower Manhattan' the young woman answered in response to the unasked question.

The remaining NYPD officers and the members of Jones' team were left behind to clean up the operation and Peter and Sara headed out into the night, following the ambulance and Neal to the nearby hospital.

WCWCWC

'This is taking forever' said Sara as she continued to pace like a caged animal in the emergency waiting room. They'd arrived right behind the ambulance and she'd gotten a glimpse of Neal as they'd wheeled him into the ER. He had given her a thumbs up and a weak smile – no doubt an attempt to keep her from worrying.

It hadn't worked... and Sara's mind continued to reel with all kinds of possibilities as to what could possibly be ailing her wonderful husband.

'Do you think it's his heart?' she asked of Peter who was sitting there patiently

'I don't know' he lied

He was pretty sure it was but he had gone to Quantico not medical school so he thought it better to keep his opinions to himself. They would know soon enough and they would deal with it together – whatever _it_ was.

'He's only 52!' she continued, the tempo of her pacing increasing in speed

'Sara, why don't you sit for a minute? That carpet can't take much more of your pacing' he said, trying to keep things light

She rolled her eyes at him, finally relenting and reluctantly taking the seat next to him.

'He's such a... he's just so pig-headed! He never wants to admit it when he's sick and who knows what he's been keeping from me?' she asked, rhetorically

Peter smiled in commiseration; he knew his best friend well and he had to agree with Sara. He recalled all those times Neal was injured or hurt on cases, always playing down his pain or discomfort and often taking unnecessary chances with his own safety in order to make sure everyone he cared about was safe.

He patted Sara's hand in solidarity and gave it a small squeeze as the wait continued.

WCWCWC

Neal lay on the narrow bed in the emergency room surrounded by a dozen or so beds, half of which were occupied on this night at Lower Manhattan Hospital. He had been questioned and prodded by nurses and interns and was awaiting the arrival of an emergency room physician whom he hoped would have some explanation for the puzzling symptoms he'd been having for almost a month. It had all started rather innocuously as he recalled, beginning with the night he and Sara had dinner at the Burkes a few weeks back. He'd had severe pain on the way home in the car and of course, he'd hid it from Sara and by the time they'd gotten home, he remembered feeling well enough to cuddle up to his wife and giving in to her advances with a half-hearted session of vanilla sex before turning over and going to sleep. The next morning, the symptoms had all but dissipated and he remembered how they'd flared again after his morning cup of coffee.

At the time, he'd assumed it was a severe case of heartburn and he'd thrown back a couple of antacids and hoped for the best. Following the incident, he'd cut out coffee completely, resorting to the low grade variety although he hadn't seen much of a marked improvement in his symptoms. He hoped it wasn't his ticker; unfortunately, he didn't have much in the way of a family history to support any speculation one way or the other. His dad hadn't been in his life since he was little and he knew nothing of his health status or that of his mom's in recent years. He had a fleeting thought for her, wondering how she was doing after all this time. His relationship with her had always been strained and after leaving St Louis when he was 18 years old, he'd never looked back.

Whatever was causing his health problems, he hoped it could all be resolved quickly and painlessly. He felt alive and vital and he didn't want to have to slow down yet – he was just getting started.

WCWCWC

The phone rang in the Caffrey household and Hope Ellis-Caffrey turned over in bed to look at the clock by her bedside. It was well past midnight - who the hell was calling the house at this hour? Oh well, she thought, not bothering to lift her head off the pillow, her parents would get it. She closed her eyes, anxious to resume the wonderful dream she was having which involved some serious tongue tickling with the new man in her life. She smiled as she sunk back onto her pillow and she had begun to drift off when the ringing resumed again a few short seconds later and the teen rolled over in bed, annoyed, and grabbed the phone by her bedside.

'Hello?' she said sleepily

'Honey, it's me' came Sara's voice

'Mom? Where are you? I thought you were in bed' she answered, sitting up

'I'm at the hospital with Daddy. He wasn't feeling well and we thought we'd get him checked out' Sara explained, trying to keep the apprehension she was feeling out of her voice

'What do you mean, not feeling well?' asked Hope, suddenly concerned for her dad

'Not sure, sweetie. I just didn't want you waking up and finding out our bed wasn't slept in. I'll call you as soon as we find out anything' answered Sara

'Alright... do you need me to come... to the hospital?' asked Hope, suddenly aware her mom might need her by her side

'No, no. Of course not. Uncle Peter is with me. Daddy's in good hands. Just keep an eye on Liam okay?' she said, her voice steady

'Okay' Hope answered, unsure

She hung up and lay her head down. Suddenly, thoughts of Cameron Armstrong evaporated and the only man on her worried mind was her wonderful, loving dad.

WCWCWC

Sara had just hung up and was exchanging worried looks with Peter Burke when a nurse walked up to them.

'The doctor would like to see you' she said as she led them down a dimly lit corridor

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Peter followed Sara down the hall, feeling somewhat like an intruder, although relieved to be invited into the inner circle where he could hear first-hand about Neal's condition. They were escorted into the busy ER room where the dozen or so beds were separated by thin curtains; virtually no privacy for anyone who lay there exposed and vulnerable. Neal was half way sitting up when they arrived at his small cubicle and he gazed lovingly at his wife with a soft smile on his face – narcotically induced, Sara was quick to deduce.

'Hi honey!' he said loudly, his voice slightly loopy

She made her way to stand at the head of the bed and took his outstretched hand in hers.

'They gave me something for the pain' he added although it was hardly necessary to explain what was so blatantly obvious

'I see. So you're feeling better?' she asked, smiling indulgently

He nodded a little too enthusiastically and seemed to suddenly notice Peter standing by the foot of the bed.

'Hey buddy!' he said with that same goofy smile

'You look pretty relaxed!' said Peter, stating the obvious

'The nurse gave me somethin' for the pain' he repeated, pointing to the IV pole

Sara exchanged an amused look with Peter. Loopy Neal was always a lot of fun to observe as his defences came down and his true nature was amplified tenfold.

'So, what did the doctor say?' she asked, impatient to find out what the issue was

'It's NOT my heart' he answered emphatically and a little too loudly considering the close quarters

'That's a relief. So what is it?' she asked, holding her breath

'Dunno' he answered with a smile 'But I feel fine. I think we should go home now'

Neal made a move to get out of the bed and Peter reacted swiftly, holding him back before he pulled out the IV that was likely providing him with that wonderful warmth he was so enjoying.

'Whoa, whoa there cowboy! Let's let them finish examining you before we go' said Peter

'But Peter' Neal said, his voice garbled 'It's like I'm floating on a cloud of marshmallows. Really - I'm good'

'Marshmallows, huh?' echoed Sara

Suddenly, the curtain moved and a doctor appeared - the same one who had examined Neal minutes earlier.

'Mrs. Caffrey?' he said putting out his hand to take Sara's

'Yes, she is!' Neal said proudly 'Isn't she gorgeous - my beautiful wife of SIXTEEN years' he all but yelled to everyone within earshot

'Nice to meet you' said the man in white with a small smile 'I'm Dr. Lee and I've just finished examining your husband. We've given him some morphine – he was in quite a bit of pain when he got here. The good news is - his heart looks great so whatever is causing him so much distress is likely coming from his stomach...'

'See, I told you!' Neal interrupted, his voice triumphant, as Sara squeezed his hand in an effort to get him to pipe down.

Neal was always cheerful and happy but Neal on morphine was several notches up on the 'happy-meter' scale.

'I would like to run some tests, specifically an endoscopy so I can look at what's going on in his oesophagus and his stomach. Neal tells me he's been having pain usually after eating and more pronounced pain when he lies down. That could be a sign of an ulcer, or something more serious. He's also mentioned he's had some vomiting which included some blood'

Sara stared at Neal with her mouth agape; damn him and his proclivity for covering up anything that might cause her to worry.

'You've been vomiting blood and you didn't tell me!' she said, unable to hide her disappointment

'Just a couple of times' he said, his voice quiet as if he were a young child being scolded

'Neal!' she responded, in exasperation

'It could be an ulcer or simply acid reflux which has gone untreated.' the doctor continued ignoring the bickering between his patient and his wife 'Hopefully, the test will help us determine exactly what the problem is and then we can talk about treatment options'

'So, what's this test?' Sara asked, trying to ascertain how serious the problem might be

'We'll insert an endoscope, a small flexible tube with a light and camera attached to it down his throat so we can see his oesophagus and his upper gastrointestinal tract' he explained, surely not for the first time in his long career

'Do you have to put him to sleep?' she asked, looking concerned

'No, I think Mr. Caffrey is sufficiently relaxed for us to do the procedure' he said looking at his patient who continued to grin for no apparent reason

'He tells me he hasn't had anything to eat for the past six hours' said the doctor, finding it necessary to confirm Neal's assertion

Sara looked at her watch, noting it was almost 1:30 in the morning and she thought back to the last few harrowing hours. Unless Neal had snuck in a snack while they were being held at gunpoint, she was reasonably sure he hadn't ingested anything in the past few hours.

'That's right. We've been together for most of the evening' she answered, foregoing the urge to provide any additional information

'Alright, well Mr. Caffrey, someone will come and get you in a few minutes and take you down for the procedure. It takes about thirty minutes' Dr. Lee said, turning to Sara

'Aye, aye, captain!' Neal said loudly, giving him a salute

Sara smiled politely, silently apologizing for her husband's unusual behavior but the doctor gave her a reassuring look letting her know he'd seen much worse over the years. He departed leaving Neal with his wife and best friend, off to tend to another emergency room patient nearby.

Sara let out a sigh of relief and sat on the edge of the bed facing Neal, finally getting a good look at his face. He had regained some color and the lines which had been etched on his forehead earlier, as he'd fought the severe pain, had finally disappeared. She looked into his relaxed face, thankful to see him looking much better than he'd appeared as he lay on the ground at Sterling Bosch. He had a knack for driving her crazy and he'd been perfecting the skill for over twenty years ever since she'd first laid eyes on him. No matter what, he was the one, the one who made her heart flutter, the one who made her swoon, the one who made her want to tear her hair out and run out of the room, the one who made her heart skip a beat every time he whispered her name, the one she never wanted to be without.

'God, you scared me Neal' she said as her hand gently grazed his cheek

'I'm fine, see?' he said his eyes sparkling. He smiled devilishly before adding, his voice exaggeratingly quiet 'Do you want to fool around?'

WCWCWC

The orderly arrived within minutes and Neal was wheeled away promising to be back soon. Sara and Peter resumed their vigil in the nearby waiting room; at least, now they knew Neal was not in any immediate danger. They would just have to deal with whatever the news was in good time.

'Peter, El's gonna be worried. Why don't you go on home and I'll call you tomorrow' she said, suddenly bone tired from the stressful evening they'd just had

'I've already called her. I'll wait until he comes back from the test and we'll see what the doctor says' said Peter with an encouraging smile

Suddenly, Sara thought of the two other very special people who had been taken away in an ambulance earlier in the evening and she excused herself momentarily to see if she could get any information on Leroy and Lydia. According to staff at the desk, Leroy was still in surgery to have the bullet removed from his shoulder and Lydia had been admitted with the baby overnight just to make certain everything was okay.

She made her way back to the waiting room to find Peter with his eyes closed, head lying on the back of his chair. She looked around the room at the dozen or so people who were all waiting for news about their loved ones and she spotted an older woman with dark skin and shiny eyes who was sitting with a younger man, clutching his hand. Although she'd never met Leroy's wife, she'd heard plenty about her over the years and she cautiously made her way over, not wanting to interrupt what might be a private moment between them.

'Are you Rose Winston?' she asked quietly as she came to face her

'Yes, I am' answered the woman, surprised to be approached by an apparent stranger

'Hi, Rose. I'm a friend of Leroy's from work, Sara Ellis' she said putting out her hand in greeting

'I've heard so much about you' said Rose, a warm smile filling her round, dark face

'And I, about you' responded Sara

'Please sit' said the woman 'This is our son, Leroy Jr'

Sara nodded at the young man. He was their baby, the last of the kids born to the couple and he was his dad's pride and joy, attending university to become a lawyer.

'Ah, the aspiring lawyer' Sara said as she shook his hand

'That's right. We're very proud of him' said Rose

'How's Leroy doing?' asked Sara, suddenly serious

'They're operating on him right now but the doctor said the bullet hadn't hit any bones – just a flesh wound. He should be out of surgery any minute now' said Leroy's wife

'Thank God' answered Sara 'I was at the office when it happened'

Rose had been given an abbreviated version of the events of the evening by the police officer who had shown up on their doorstep and she listened carefully as Sara outlined the incident in detail, playing up Leroy's kindness as he'd waited for her and Lydia to return from their business in the recovery room.

'He's a wonderful man' said Sara as she finished telling the tale 'but I guess you already know that'

Rose smiled at Sara and nodded. Leroy had mentioned that they had recently celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary and were looking forward to retirement within the next year. They'd had a hard life, especially in the early years as they'd raised their brood and no one deserved to be happy more that this man who Sara held in the highest regard.

'Well, he speaks highly of you too. Says you have two beautiful kids and a wonderful husband' said Rose

'I do' answered Sara 'As a matter of fact, my husband was taken ill after the incident and they're running some tests on him right now'

'Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that' said Rose, touching her hand 'I hope it's not too serious'

They exchanged a warm goodbye, Rose calling out as Sara got up to leave: 'Well, God willing, both our husbands will be fine'

Sara wasn't much of a 'God-willing' kind of person but she was thankful for the words of wisdom and encouragement and she wished Rose well before returning to Peter's side.

He woke with a start when she sat down next to him and looked at her, bleery-eyed 'Any news yet?' he asked

She shook her head 'Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when Neal gets back'

A few minutes later, someone came in to tell them that Neal had been admitted for the night and inviting them to go up to his room to discuss the findings of the test with Dr. Lee.

WCWCWC

Neal had somehow drifted off to sleep during the procedure, attesting to the relaxed state in which he was in. He woke to find himself in a private hospital room, alone and considerably less loopy than he'd been earlier. He stared unblinking towards the door to his room, waiting patiently for Sara to make her return.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Hope hadn't been able to get back to sleep after her mom's late night phone call. She'd lay in bed for a while before finally giving up and heading down the stairs to sit in the family room, settling in on the couch and watching old reruns of 'I Love Lucy' on television while she waited. Despite Lucy and Desi's attempts at distracting her, Hope's mind wandered as she tried to recall any signs that her dad had been headed for trouble.

She had certainly noticed how stressed he was lately and she knew he hadn't been feeling like his old self but she'd had no idea that whatever was ailing him would be enough to land him in hospital. At dinner, she'd found him pale as they ate and come to think of it, he hadn't finished his burger – and Neal usually loved Mel's famous burgers – but he'd been his usual sweet self at the game, no sign of what was to come. She clutched her phone against her chest, waiting for her mom to respond to her latest text. It had been a good hour and still no news. She thought of Cameron and after a moment of hesitation, she began to type in a message, on the off chance he was still awake.

'Are you still up?' she wrote... and waited

Within thirty seconds, her phone rang and she sighed in relief as she saw the young man's name light up her screen.

'Are you alright?' he blurted out before she could even say hello

'Yeah, I'm fine. It's my dad, Cam. He's in the hospital' she answered, making it feel all the more real

'In the hospital? What's wrong?' he asked, with alarm

'I'm not sure, my mom didn't say but... I'm worried, Cam' she responded, her voice a little shaky

Hope had been left alone in the house with Liam on numerous occasions but suddenly she felt scared and alone and hearing Cameron's voice on the other end was a welcome relief. She realized she'd been holding her breath and she began to breathe normally as his calming voice washed over her.

'Is there anything I can do?' he asked

'Just talk to me for a minute, okay?' she said, thankful for his voice in the night

'Sure' said the young man 'Knowing your dad, no matter how he's feeling, he'll be worrying about the gallery'

Hope laughed sardonically. 'Yeah, you're right...'

'You know, if you're talking to him, you can tell him that I could take over tomorrow at noon as soon as I finish writing my test and I could cover, up until closing time if he needs me' he offered

Hope smiled at the offer. Cam was a very thoughtful and helpful guy – a lot like her dad, as a matter of fact – and if he could do anything to help someone, even a stranger, he was right in there lending a hand.

'And Friday, I don't have any classes all day so I could cover from opening to closing time if he needs me' he continued

'I'll make sure and tell him' she answered with a smile

'And between the two of us, I'm sure we could handle Saturday...' he continued

This time, Hope laughed out loud.

'Alright, Cam. I'll let him know. Thank you... for everything. For being there at two in the morning and for being such a good friend' she said, suddenly reassured

'You make it easy, Hope' he responded

WCWCWC

Sara and Peter were sent up to the fourth floor and directed to room 407. The hallways were quiet at this hour of the night except for nurses going in and out, checking patients' vital signs and responding to any patient requests. They found Neal gently snoozing on a stark white bed, looking like a lost little boy. The sound of their footsteps roused him from his light slumber and he looked up to see them entering and making their way over to him.

'Hey, sleepy head!' Sara said, smiling as she stood next to him

She ruffled his unkempt hair which made him look years younger and he smiled back, looking peaceful; no sign of the earlier look of pain and anguish on his face.

'How did the test go?' Peter asked

'Fine. I fell asleep half way through and woke up in here. I guess I was pretty far gone, huh?' Neal asked, thinking back to his earlier behavior in the emergency room

Sara smiled in response 'You were just a little happier than usual' she said

'Did they tell you anything yet?' Peter asked, settling in by the side of Neal's bed

'The nurse said the doctor was going to come up and talk to us' Neal responded as his mind began to wander 'Sara, what about the gallery? We need to open in another few hours'

Peter looked down at his friend, good old Neal, always worried about something.

'Don't worry about the gallery, _I'll _open tomorrow morning' he said without a second thought

'But...' Neal began before being promptly cut off

'No buts, Neal' Sara said sternly 'Did you forget what happened tonight? We are going to do _exactly_ what the doctor says, do you hear me? And for the time being, I'm in charge of the gallery'

Neal's eyes became clouded and she could see him trying to figure things out in his still blurry, drug-induced mind.

'Neal, please. We don't even know what's going on with you yet. You _have_ to think about yourself here for a change' she added

But Neal wasn't buying it and despite his small insincere smile, she knew he was still thinking about a hundred minute details regarding the gallery and all his responsibilities.

'Neal!' she said, more insistent 'Do you trust me?'

'What?... of course I trust you' he said

'Then, let me take care of the gallery. Please' she begged, looking into his eyes

She saw him relax a little and give her a more genuine smile as he nodded in response.

They could hear soft voices in the hallway and all three of them turned just in time to see Dr. Lee, the ER doctor returning with some news on the results of Neal's test.

'Hi' he said as he stepped in, settling in at the foot of the bed 'I know you've been anxious to know what's going on so I won't keep you in suspense. Neal, you have what's called a hiatal hernia'

Sara's eyes widened as she listened. It sounded serious – and she squeezed Neal's hand tightly as the doctor continued. Dr. Lee took a step closer and lifting the clipboard he was holding in his hand, he began drawing on a blank sheet of paper.

'Here's your diaphragm – it's the wall which separates your chest cavity from your abdomen' he said as he began to draw 'And here's your oesophagus, or 'food pipe'. It goes through the hiatus and attaches to your stomach. In your case, Neal, there's a tear or a hernia in your hiatus which causes the stomach to bulge into the chest. It caused severe acid reflux; that's why you were vomiting and the pressure it causes on the chest cavity can be misleading and feel like a heart attack' he said, concluding his lesson in the anatomy of the upper digestive system.

'So what happens now?' asked Sara

'Well, in Neal's case, taking antacids will only temporarily relieve the symptoms but not resolve the root of the problem. I recommend surgery to repair the hernia once and for all and that should keep the symptoms from recurring'

'Surgery?' Sara repeated, with alarm as Neal looked on trying to compute things

'It's fairly non-invasive and could be done by laparoscopy. You could be walking and back home within a day or two' he said, looking at his patient

'What about after?' Neal asked, thinking of the impact this would have on his activities

'Well, depending on how fast you heal, you could resume your regular activities within a week – but no hard labor or heavy lifting for at least three months' the doctor warned

'Three months!' Neal repeated loudly

'Look, I suggest we do this as soon as possible. You're here already and I've passed your case on to one of our specialists, Dr. Cross. I've had a chat with her and considering how severe your symptoms are, she said she could fit you in first thing in the morning'

'That's great' Sara said and seeing the wavering look in Neal's eyes, she added 'Isn't it, honey?'

'Yeah... yeah' Neal said, not sounding very convinced

'Look, I suggest you get a couple of hours sleep and Dr. Cross will be in to meet with you before the surgery' he said as he prepared to leave

'Thank you very much, doctor' Peter said, shaking his hand

'Yes, thank you' Neal added softly, still shell shocked at the explanation as to his condition

It was almost three o'clock in the morning and Peter said goodnight, making his way back to Brooklyn to get a few hours of sleep. He promised Neal he would be at the gallery at ten sharp to open up and except for noting down the security code, he refused all other details the gallery owner tried to give him, insisting that he was a big boy and he would figure things out by himself. Sara and Neal thanked him and waved him off, watching as he left the hospital room, his shoulders hunched, looking very tired himself.

'You should go home, too' Neal said as he looked at his bone-weary wife

'No way! By the time I get home, it'll be time to come back and meet with the doctor' she said, her voice suddenly clear and strong

'Sara...' Neal began

'That chair over there looks pretty comfy' she said walking over 'See? It's like a lazy-boy, I can even put my feet up'

Neal knew his wife pretty well and he knew that once she got something in her head, he – or anyone else for that matter – could never get her to change her mind.

'I'm sorry I scared you like that' he said, pulling her in to him for a hug

'Neal, when will you learn... if you're hurting, I'm hurting' she said, noticing Neal was beginning to droop

'What about the kids?' he said, changing the subject

'Oh, my God! Poor Hope!' Sara said as she began fishing for her phone in her purse 'She's probably worried sick'

'Can I talk to her?' Neal asked, his eyelids growing heavy

'Sure' she answered, dialing their number and putting the call on hands free

Hope answered before the first ring had even ended, her voice breathless.

'Mom! What's going on?' she said

'It's me, honey' Neal said, his voice rough 'Hope you're not disappointed!'

'Daddy! I've been so worried. What's going on?' she said

'It's just a little problem with my stomach and they're going to do a small operation in the morning to fix it' Neal explained

Sara looked at him, rolling her eyes – as always, Neal was downplaying the situation; he was always more concerned about everyone else's wellbeing.

'An operation!' Hope repeated

'It's nothing, Hope' he insisted 'I'll be home in a day or so'

'Dad, Cam wanted me to tell you that he can cover at the gallery starting at noon tomorrow and he can do all day Friday and on Saturday...'

'Honey' Sara piped in, cutting her off 'Just so you know, I'll be coordinating things at the gallery for awhile. No need to bother your dad with all that'

It was Neal's turn to roll his eyes at his wife – Mrs. Bossypants.

'Anyway, go to sleep, sweet pea. And don't worry, I'm fine' said Neal, sleep gaining on him

'I love you Daddy' she said 'Oh, and... I really do like it when you call me that' she confessed

Neal smiled, his eyes closed 'Good! 'Cause I plan on calling you that for the rest of your life' he said, teasing

The phone had barely been returned to her purse and Neal was snoring gently, looking peaceful and calm, to Sara's relief. She made her way over to the big blue chair in the corner and pulled it over; bringing it closer to her husband so she could hold his hand while they slept.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

'I never noticed that you drool when you sleep' Neal's voice said softly as she opened her eyes

'I do not_ drool_' Sara said, wiping at the corner of her mouth

Neal gave her an 'I told you so' look followed by a 'forgive me?' smile and Sara just laughed in response. She was pleased to see that he was back to his old mischievous self; she reached over for her phone to check the time.

'Six twenty' he said before she could register what she was reading

'Have you been awake long?' she asked, standing to get closer to him

'A while. I just want this to be over with so I can go back to the way things were' he answered, taking her hand in his and fiddling with her wedding ring

'Need I remind you that, lately, 'the way things were' included you in agonizing pain and vomiting blood' she said, trying to get Neal to see the benefits of having this situation dealt with as soon as possible.

He raised his eyes to look at her and shrugged 'I guess...'

He'd been watching her sleep for awhile and he'd been feeling a familiar stirring in the pit of his stomach; without warning, he pulled Sara in for a warm hug. The loving embrace morphed into a peck on the cheek and was immediately followed by a deeper, more probing kiss then another and before long the couple was caught up in an all out grope-fest as Neal's hands began to travel brazenly over his wife's body. Sara finally pulled herself away, laughing heartily.

'Neal Caffrey, you're about to go under the knife. Is that all you can think of?' Sara asked, enjoying the sight of her husband relaxing after all the drama from the night before

He smiled playfully 'I've got to keep my mind occupied somehow' he said grabbing her insistently and bringing her back into his arms 'My mean old wife won't let me think about the gallery'

'Oh, yeah? I don't think it's your _mind_ that's at play here' she said suggestively, willingly giving in to his unrelenting tug

The good natured tussle continued and they were smack dab in the middle of a passionate clinch when they heard someone clearing their throat, entering Neal's room.

'Mr. Caffrey?' the woman said, obviously amused 'I do believe you win the prize as the friskiest patient I've seen all week'

'Sorry' Sara said, feeling self-conscious to be caught in such an embarrassing position

'No need. I guess they just forgot to put up the 'do not disturb' sign on your door' said the young woman with a smile

Neal was never embarrassed when it came to public displays of affection; he loved his wife and he loved showing her just how much, no matter where or when. He instantly took a liking to the young woman standing in the doorway and he sat up to greet her, an impish smile still visible on his face.

'Well, we hope to get you back to _all _your favorite activities as soon as possible' she said as she stepped closer and put out her hand in greeting 'I'm Meg Cross and I'll be doing your surgery this morning'

'So, is this a fairly standard procedure?' asked Sara as she sat up and hastily rearranged her clothes

'Unless there are unforeseen complications, I plan to do the procedure by laparoscopy which allows for quick recovery time. A few small incisions and then, I'll repair the tear in your hiatus and if you're a good boy and you don't overdo things for a couple of months, you'll be as good as new'

'Does overdoing it include...' Neal's voice trailed as he pointed to himself and Sara

'No!' chuckled the doctor 'But - no heavy lifting for at least three months. The rest of your activities can resume as soon as you feel up to it'

Neal let out an audible sigh of relief and Sara gave him an embarrassed look and roll of her eyes.

'So, we're just about ready for you down in the OR. The surgery will last about an hour and we should have him back up here before lunch' she said, looking at Sara

'Let's do it' said Neal, suddenly anxious to get started

WCWCWC

Business at the Raphaël Gallery was usually slow on weekday mornings. The shop was located in a busy area of the art district and by lunchtime, things would start to pick up as people who worked nearby came in for a peek. Peter was enjoying his morning filling in for Neal; he liked being surrounded by beautiful art and he took the time to walk around the place and admire the new pieces that had appeared on the walls since the last time he'd been in. The gallery had been left in an orderly state; not surprising considering this was Neal's workplace. He was very organized and tidy in everything he did – a throwback to his days as a conman when every minute detail counted and nothing could be left to chance.

Peter had noticed a thick pile of registration forms sitting on the desk - some for the upcoming art appreciation classes and others for the children's art classes that Hope taught on Saturday afternoons. The forms sat in an organized pile on the desk and Peter noticed that Neal had begun to enter them into a tidy little Excel chart on his computer. He carried on with the task, entering a good twenty or so registrations before the first customer came by shortly after 11:00 to pick up a package which Neal had already wrapped up for him. Peter finalized the sale: $800 for one of Neal's paintings depicting the gorgeous scenery of the Gatineau Hills – a place they'd visited together just a few months before.

The gallery was becoming a victim of its own success, Peter thought, and he realized just how much was involved in running a business – something Neal had been trying to do on his own now for the past couple of months. He decided he'd talk to Sara about approaching Cameron to see if any of his classmates might be interested in some hours at the gallery or in teaching some of the extra classes. Although Neal had an acute business sense, he couldn't do it all and Peter realized that his friend would need to surround himself with people he trusted and who could support him on the business side – leaving him free to be the creative mind behind the gallery.

Neal had been burning the candle at both ends for a while now and Peter knew that he could never go back to the hurried pace he'd set for himself once this was all behind him.

WCWCWC

Sara watched as Neal was rolled out of the hospital room on the way to the operating theatre. He was relaxed and confident - thanks in part to the medication they had administered in preparation for his surgery. She could hear him halfway down the hall 'Byyyye honey!' he called out as the bed rattled on the mezzanine floor. She smiled; of anyone she'd ever known, Neal was the most amusing person to watch on meds. He was a man in every sense of the word – there was no doubt about that – but whenever he was administered narcotics, he reverted to being a little boy: playful, carefree and blissful, without a care in the world and his natural exuberance and joie de vivre came out unencumbered by the sophisticated facade he'd worked so hard at perfecting his whole adult life.

She was feeling optimistic about the outcome; this was a fairly common surgical procedure and if all went well, Neal would soon be able to resume his life, minus all the extra stress he'd been under - she'd make certain of that. Although her husband was a bit of a control freak when it came to his beloved gallery, he would just have to learn to relinquish some of that control if he wanted to live long enough to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

When they'd decided the time was finally right to invest in the gallery, she'd wondered if she should take a leave of absence from Sterling Bosch for a year to help him build the business up. Neal had poo pooed the idea, telling her that he could handle things on his own. Their five year business plan didn't project a profit until year three so Sara's income at SB was important to keep the family afloat. That, plus the fact that they were trying to set some money aside for Hope's university, something they both valued above all else.

Now, she wondered if she'd made the right decision. Sure, the business was in both their names and they had contributed equally to getting it off the ground, but this was Neal's baby, a labor of love. It was almost as if he needed to prove to himself and the world that he could leave something good behind when he finally exited stage left – his way of erasing his past misdeeds and be remembered as Neal Caffrey, owner of the Raphaël Gallery and not Neal Caffrey, conman extraordinaire.

Sara looked at the time – it was just past 8:00 and she suddenly thought of a wonderful way she could spend the next couple of hours. She stood, fixing her hair and headed down to the gift shop on the hospital's first floor with a spring in her step.

WCWCWC

Lydia Jordan lay on the hospital bed and stared at her beautiful daughter, sleeping soundly in the small bed beside her. She had just been reliving the events of the night before and the unorthodox way in which her baby had arrived when, as if right on cue, Sara Ellis appeared in the doorway to her hospital room.

'Sara!' the new mom exclaimed as she sat up to greet her guest

It was still really early and she hadn't been expecting any company first thing in the morning but she was thrilled to see her friend standing there.

'Hi!' said Sara, stepping into the room on her tiptoes 'Is this a bad time?'

'No, of course not. Sam just went home to shower and change. I'm so happy to see you!' she said as she put her arms out for a hug

Sara made her way over, putting down the gift she was carrying by the foot of the bed and opened her arms to her friend, hugging her warmly. She looked over at the tiny baby lying nearby and unexpectedly let out a gasp, feeling an unfamiliar tightening in her chest.

'Oh, my God! She's beautiful' she said, most sincerely

Little Beatrice was a tiny baby – or was it just that it had been so long since Sara had seen a newborn – and the infant scrunched her face up as she heard Sara's voice, her eyes remaining tightly closed. She was fair, not a whole lot of hair and her face was small and dainty, like her mom's, reminding Sara of Liam when he was a newborn.

'She's so calm' said Lydia 'You wouldn't think that'd be the case considering the chaotic way in which she came into the world'

'I'm so sorry you had to go through that...' Sara began, looking into her friend's eyes

'Are you kidding? You were amazing, Sara. I never could have made it through that ordeal without you' she responded, taking Sara's hand

'I'm just glad you're both safe and sound' said Sara, wiping a tear '... and that Sam was there when she finally arrived'

Lydia nodded as her friend spoke. 'It's scary... you know, becoming a mom, but it's a _good_ scary'

Sara couldn't have said it better herself and she thought back to the moment Hope was first placed in her arms; the sheer exhilaration mixed with the terror that she now had to be there for this little person for the rest of her life. She stared at Lydia, realizing she was feeling the same conflicting emotions and she looked forward to watching the new mom discover for herself just how wonderful motherhood could be.

Whatever friendship the women had shared previous to their adventure had grown exponentially over the past twenty four hours and they both sat, gazing at the little person who had come out of that horrible experience and whose arrival had somehow made it all better.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

'Well, I guess I should get back to Neal' said Sara, standing to leave 'He should be back from the recovery room anytime now'

'I'm so glad you came by' said Lydia, herself looking like she could use a nap

'Once you're settled, the three of you will have to come over for dinner' said Sara with a warm smile

'That would be great!' answered Lydia 'Oh, and Sara, thanks for the beautiful gift'

'My pleasure!' said Sara as she bent down to hug her friend and place a small kiss on little Beatrice's forehead

Sara made her way to the elevator and back down to the fourth floor to see if Neal had returned to his room. It was a few minutes to noon and she hoped everything had gone according to plan and that Neal was lying peacefully in bed on his way to a full recovery.

WCWCWC

By noon, Cameron Armstrong showed up at the gallery ready for duty and Peter discretely gave him the once over. He'd been the one to suggest that Neal hire someone to help him in the first place but ever since Neal had confided about the situation with Hope, Peter's protective instincts had kicked in and he wanted to make sure that this guy was worthy of his beautiful goddaughter.

Peter offered to stay for the afternoon, ostensibly to help out in case the place got busy, but his main objective was to get to know the young man and suss him out as a potential suitor for Hope. He watched as Cameron fussed in the shop – a very similar style to Neal's – seeing to details and making sure the customers left with a smile on their face. He was proactive, working in the back getting paintings ready to be displayed and he even offered to run out and get Peter a cup of coffee when he started to notice that the ex-FBI agent was beginning to look tired.

'How's Mr. Caffrey?' he asked as they took a mid-afternoon break

'I haven't heard yet' answered Peter 'but the surgery they're doing is fairly common – repairing a hernia'

That didn't mean a hell of a lot to Cameron, the art student, but he nodded as if he understood what the older man had just explained.

'So, I hear you and Hope have really hit it off' Peter said, suddenly changing the subject and realizing as the words left his lips that he sounded like the neighborhood busy body

Cam's eyes got wide, surprised that Peter would have an interest in such a subject.

'Yeah. She's a great girl. We're going to a gallery opening on Saturday night' he said, rather nervously

'Oh yeah?' Peter said, now wondering why he'd opened the can of worms

'She loves visiting galleries... and she's such a great artist herself' Cameron continued, feeling increasingly uncomfortable

'Well, she _is_ my goddaughter so you don't have to tell me about how wonderful she is' Peter answered as a way of explaining his sudden interest in the young woman for whom he'd gladly lay down his life

'Oh, I didn't know' answered Cameron, awkwardly

'Yeah, her dad and I met years ago when... when we worked together at the FBI' he added for clarification

Cam was coming to the conclusion that Hope had a lot of people in her corner and he suddenly realized that he'd better watch his step if he didn't want the FBI hunting him down for the unforgivable crime of breaking a young girl's heart.

WCWCWC

By the time Sara turned the corner and arrived at the door to room 407, she could hear some muffled noises coming from inside the room. She peeked in to find Neal hunched over a utility bowl, throwing up, as the nurse supported his back and held the kidney shaped container for him.

Neal looked up, bleery-eyed as he heard Sara's footsteps and he gave his wife a small, resigned smile.

'Hi Mrs. Caffrey' said the nurse

'Your husband is fine; he's just reacting a little to the anaesthetic, that's all' she added, seeing the alarm in Sara's eyes

Sara let out a sigh of relief as she walked all the way in, dumping her purse on a nearby chair and sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed to get a better look at her poor suffering husband. His face was pale, his eyes hooded and his hair hung in his face making him look years younger than his age.

'I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back' she said, running her hand through his hair

'S'okay, just got here' he answered, his eyes half closed

The nurse cleaned up and offered her patient a sip of water before exiting to leave the couple alone.

'He'll be a little groggy for a while but he's fine. I'll be back to check on his vitals and the doctor should be in later' she explained

Sara made a move to stand to give Neal all the space he needed on the bed but he held her arm and looked at her, his eyes pleading.

'No, stay' he said, his voice small

She settled back down and gazed at post-op Neal who looked much worse for wear. Surgery was always a shock to the system and Neal was always sick after anaesthesia – even that time he'd had dental surgery a few years back.

'Do you need anything?' she asked as she kept stroking his hair softly

'Huh, huh, just you' he murmured as his eyes closed

Within a few minutes, Neal had fallen asleep again and Sara rose to take a seat on her makeshift bed from the night before, grabbing a magazine from her oversized purse. She looked lovingly at her husband, so fragile as he lay there – all six feet of him curled up into a little ball. He would get through this and he'd get better but he had to learn to take it easy and to let others help him if he wanted to live a long, happy life and continue to enjoy all he'd worked so hard for. Sara hadn't had a chance to tell him, but she'd already written an e-mail to her bosses asking for a couple of weeks off; she wanted to be there for Neal as he healed (well, really she wanted to hover so he wouldn't overdo things) and she needed to get the gallery organized and properly staffed.

The night before, Peter had hinted that he might be available to help out on a regular basis; he was finding retirement difficult and he kept sticking his nose into Clinton Jones' business although he was reasonably sure that Jones appreciated the help. It was time to cut the cord with the Bureau; he'd given them the better part of 35 years and it was time to move on to something else. He'd always been good with finances and Sara wondered if he might take over the 'business' side of the gallery – keeping the books balanced, doing the accounts and generally carrying out the numerous (and time consuming) administrative tasks. Neal was much better suited for the public relations and creative side of the business – making contacts, finding new artists who wanted to use the gallery, organizing showings and of course, continuing to contribute as an artist himself to the beautiful art on the second floor.

When Neal was on his feet again, she'd run it by him; she felt reasonably sure that he would agree to her plan. After all, he knew he could work with Peter – they'd always been great partners – and this was just a natural extension of what their relationship had always been. Between Peter's help, maximizing Cameron's involvement, Hope teaching classes and finding a couple of part-timers, Sara was confident that things would stabilize and Neal would enjoy the gallery so much more. Of course, that meant their business plan needed to be amended and that the profits would have to wait a year or two but it was well worth it to have Neal happy and healthy. She looked down at her husband and noticed a small smile on his sleeping face almost as if he'd heard everything she'd been thinking.

WCWCWC

Sara had dozed off when she suddenly became aware that there were voices in the room. She opened her eyes to see Neal sitting up, looking much more alert than before and chatting with Peter and Hope who had somehow materialized in the last little while.

'Sorry, honey. Did we wake you?' Neal asked with a mischievous smile

'What are you guys doing here?' asked Sara as she came to and discretely wiped the corner of her mouth – now Neal had her feeling self-conscious

'Well, everything was under control at the gallery so I picked Hope up from school and here we are' answered Peter, gesturing with his hands

'Thank God! You weren't much company' he said, jostling Sara who couldn't help but smile at her husband's teasing

'Has the doctor been in?' she asked, finally getting her bearings and looking around the room

She was anxious to hear about the results of the surgery and even more anxious to have Neal back at home with her and the kids.

'Not yet' he answered

Sara looked up at Peter and Hope, standing there and it struck her suddenly, how grown up Hope looked as she stood next to her uncle – a young woman really. Neal was right, they had to give her some space to experience life a little and just stand by and keep an eye on things without stifling her. She had a good head on her shoulders, excellent judgement and more importantly, she had a strong sense of self and would not easily be pulled into doing something that wasn't right for her.

'Where's Liam?' asked Sara, noticing her son wasn't around

'He's at basketball practice' explained Hope 'Uncle Peter and I are going to pick him up'

'And I thought I'd bring them back to Brooklyn for dinner if that's okay with you. El's been complaining about how long it's been since the kids have been over'

'Thanks Peter. That sounds great' Sara said, relieved

She wasn't quite ready to leave Neal's side yet and knowing that the kids would be getting more than Kraft Dinner for their evening meal was a relief. Not for the first time, she felt thankful for the Burkes and their involvement in their lives.

A volunteer peeked into the room carrying a tray – ostensibly Neal's version of dinner – and Hope moved in to give her dad a kiss as the twosome prepared to leave. She'd been terrified at the thought that her dad was not well and she'd been relieved to find him just as before, his usual loving and smiling self.

'Bye Daddy. I'll see you tomorrow' she said, leaning in for a kiss

He hugged her gingerly, suddenly aware of the discomfort in his abdomen.

'Love you sweet pea' he said, noticing her smile at the pet name

'I love _you_, Dad. Bye Mom' she added as she gave her mom a quick hug

Peter placed his hand on Neal's shoulder and squeezed; he was relieved to see his best friend looking like he always did, minus the high end wardrobe

'I'm glad you're gonna be okay, buddy' he said

WCWCWC

'Come on Neal, one more bite!' said Sara as she held the fork up to his mouth

Neal frowned at her as if he was in physical pain at the thought of ingesting one more bite of the gray mush that was masquerading as filet of sole.

'This stuff is disgusting – _you_ try it' he said, pushing her hand away

He wasn't very hungry; his stomach still trying to recover from the attack on his body and Sara finally gave up, putting the fork down in defeat. The nurse had gotten Neal up and out of bed just before he ate and with Sara's help, he'd walked up and down the hallway to the nurses' station to see if he could get his legs back. He'd done well and the nurse had declared that he was well on his way to being released once the doctor gave him the all clear.

The couple was sitting in companionable silence when they heard someone at the door to Neal's room.

'What? No passionate clinch? I'm disappointed' said Meg Cross as she stepped in with a broad smile on her face

'Even I need to take a break every once in a while' Neal quipped, taking Sara's hand in his '... although you have to admit she's hard to resist'

Despite the fact he was recovering from surgery, Neal was, as always, the charmer and Sara did a mental eye roll at her sweet-talking Casanova's never-ending flattery.

'So, time for the verdict' said Dr. Cross as she sat at the foot of Neal's bed

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

'I'm pleased with what we were able to accomplish during surgery. You had quite a significant tear and we've managed to get it all sewn up' said Dr. Cross as she sat on the edge of Neal's bed explaining things to the couple

'Your symptoms should disappear now that your hernia has been repaired but your recovery depends entirely on you, Neal. You mustn't overdo things – especially lifting anything that might put a strain on your abdomen. What do you do for a living?' she asked

'We own an art gallery in Manhattan and I run the place' he responded, pride apparent in his voice

It was still new and he wasn't yet accustomed to saying the words out loud. Every time he realized that he was, indeed, the proud owner of the Raphaël Gallery, the realization brought a fresh new wave of joy and excitement.

'Well, no lifting of framed art, especially up and down stairs for at least three months' she said as she looked at Sara

'What about other physical activities?' Neal asked

He still enjoyed jogging a couple of times a week and of course there were those other unmentionable activities he was looking forward to resuming.

'Such as?' Dr. Cross asked

'Jogging – I like to jog a couple of mornings a week' he said

'Give yourself a week of rest, then try running a short distance and see how you feel. Your body will tell you if it's too much for you; just listen to that little inner voice' she advised

'And what about sex?' he asked unabashedly. He didn't want Sara freaking out on him _if_ (or rather _when_) he got in the mood for a little one on one

'Depending on how strenuous it is, it should be fine. Again, let your body tell you; if you're feeling any discomfort, it's a sign that it's time to slow down. I really don't want you back in here to have to do this all over again' she admonished

Neal nodded; he, more than anyone else, didn't want to have to go through this again.

'And if you have any of your previous symptoms – vomiting, reflux, stomach pain... see your doctor immediately' she added, noticing Sara was hanging on her every word

'So, I'm going to go ahead and sign your release papers and you can leave the hospital first thing in the morning - if you have a good night's rest, that is' she concluded as she stood to leave

'It's been wonderful to meet you... but I hope we never cross paths again, certainly not in hospital' she added as she walked out

Neal and Sara thanked her profusely and watched as the young woman left, having succeeded in doing the job she'd been tasked with.

'Sex? Really, Neal?' Sara said, her face slightly flushed

'What? You would have been on my case as soon as I made a move!' he said, giving his wife a friendly jostle

She laughed in total exasperation; she hated to admit it but she was secretly relieved to know she wouldn't have to wait three months for her next dose of Caffrey-love.

'Look, go home and get some sleep. I'm fine. The kids need you more than I do' said Neal as he took her hand in his

'You sure?' she asked, a look of concern on her face

Even though she would willingly spend another night in that uncomfortable chair if he needed her, she had to admit she was looking forward to sinking into their cozy bed - despite the fact she wouldn't have her husband's warm body next to hers.

'Just don't forget to come back for me tomorrow. I can't wait to get home' he added

WCWCWC

'Anyway, that's basically it' said Sara as she lay on the bed, chatting with Emily on the phone

Sara had been filling her sister in on the unsettling events of the last couple of days starting with the attempted robbery at Sterling Bosch and culminating with Neal's visit to the emergency room.

'Oh, my God! You must have been terrified when he crumpled at your feet' said her sister, miles away

'Tell me about it. I was already a mess from what had happened with Lydia and then to have Neal just collapse like that...' Sara said, recalling just how worried she'd been

'I'm glad he's going to be okay. Listen, do you need me to come down for a while; maybe help out at the gallery?' asked Emily, seemingly out of the blue

She was retired now and although she was still an active member of the Chicago Artists' Guild, she had a lot of time on her hands. She would be more than happy to come back to New York and help her sister and brother-in-law if they needed her. She had fallen in love with the gallery at its opening a few weeks back and Neal had graciously included some of her own art amongst his and Hope's collection on the second floor of the establishment.

'You'd do that?' Sara asked, the idea of having her big sister help her through the next little while suddenly very appealing

'Of course I would! I've got something on this weekend but I could come down as early as Monday' said Emily

'Oh, Em, that would be amazing. I haven't wanted Neal to worry but I _am_ feeling a little overwhelmed by all that's involved with running the gallery. Neal is much better at all that than I am and I could sure use some help' Sara said, relief flooding her

'Consider it done!' said Emily Ellis-Foster 'I'll let you know when my flight gets in'

Sara felt herself truly relax for the first time in the last few days and she pulled Raffie closer to her on the bed, running her hands through his fur to the dog's obvious delight; in the absence of the real thing, he would just have to do.

WCWCWC

By Saturday night, Neal was feeling a lot better. He'd been released from hospital on Friday morning, as expected, and Sara had been overseeing things on the home front as well as at the gallery, all the while trying to keep Neal on a short leash.

Just being home had been enough to give him a boost of energy and at the moment, Sara was doing her best to shoo him away from the kitchen after he'd started hinting at making a start on dinner.

'You're just going to have to put up with my cooking for a few more nights' she said as she dragged him over to the couch in the family room and sat him down so he could watch her work (or was that, coach her through the meal preparation?)

They were interrupted by Hope as she came down the stairs, looking gorgeous in a pencil skirt and pale blue silk blouse, her feet in a very pretty pair of heels – a most unusual look for her.

Neal whistled as he took in the sight of his daughter: she looked beautiful. Although she had his dark wavy hair (which she'd tucked up in a most grownup do) and his bluer than blue eyes, her demeanour was all Sara – that air of confidence when she walked into a room that said in no uncertain terms: don't mess with me! Just like her mother, she was dainty and feminine yet oh so strong.

'Honey, you look beautiful!' said Sara as she stepped away from the kitchen island to get a better look

'Thanks' answered Hope, sounding a little breathless

'What time is Cameron picking you up?' asked Neal

'Any minute now. He wanted to come early and talk to you about the gallery' she said as Neal gave her a puzzled look

Neal noticed Sara didn't have the same look of confusion on _her_ face and he immediately knew things had been going on behind his back.

'What about the gallery?' Neal asked – a question that would be left unanswered for the moment as the three of them looked up in response to the doorbell ringing

Hope took a deep cleansing breath and made her way to the front of the house; she could see Cameron through the window, standing there with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands. She opened the door and looked him up and down, noticing how he'd cleaned up well after his long day at the gallery.

'Hi! Come on in' she said, taking the flowers from his outstretched arm and smiling demurely (Hope Ellis-Caffrey was a lot of things but demure wasn't usually in her repertoire)

'My folks are in the kitchen' she said as she led the way

Neal was standing next to Sara when they came into view and he took in the sight of the young lovers – realizing that indeed, Hope was part of a 'couple', something that was most jarring.

'Mr. Caffrey!' Cameron said as he put out his hand to shake Neal's 'I'm so glad to see up and about'

'Thanks, Cameron. And thanks for putting in all those extra hours at the gallery these last few days' said Neal as the foursome moved to the kitchen table to sit and chat

Sara had obviously known they were going have this little powwow and Neal looked rather irritably at his wife as he put the pieces together.

'Is this some sort of an intervention?' he asked jokingly although that's exactly what it felt like

'Of course not, honey. I just thought Cam could fill you in on what's been going on at the gallery and let us know how many hours he can work next week' she said, taking control - which Neal had definitely not relinquished to her willingly

Cam? Neal thought – when had Sara gotten so chummy with his protege? He smiled a nervous and disingenuous smile at them all, trying to overcome the awkwardness of the moment and waited as Cameron began to give him a detailed report of what had been happening at the gallery over the last few days. Sales were up and Cam had finished processing the registration forms for the upcoming classes. On someone's authority (Sara's?), he had spoken to a few of his classmates and he handed Sara a list of names of those he felt were responsible enough to help out at the store, including a couple of Neal's students who might be skilled at taking on the overflow of the art classes. He also had a list of new pieces which would be coming in over the next few days and a plan for displaying them on the first floor of the gallery.

Neal was impressed with the young man's planning and organizational skills and he smiled again, this time more genuinely as he continued to listen and watch Sara in action – as always, a tornado in heels.

'So, anyway, Mrs. Caffrey, let me know what you think and I can put them in touch with you whenever you're ready' Cameron said in conclusion

'I think I'll leave the hiring up to Neal' said Sara, turning to look at her husband 'I'm sure he can interview them without straining his abdominal muscles – and he's much better at sizing up people than I am'

Neal began to relax as he listened. He knew Sara's intentions were to keep him from having a relapse and he was pleased to see that she was taking such an interest in their gallery.

'So, are you two going out to dinner before the gallery opening?' he asked, changing the subject

'Yeah, we thought we'd hit the Pink Cactus; it's close to the new gallery' said Hope, rising to leave

'Oh, I love that place!' said Sara with a warm smile

Suddenly, Neal flashed forward ten years later, imagining Hope visiting with her significant other by her side, perhaps with a baby sleeping nearby and he had to shake the thought away before it took root. He wasn't ready to become a grandfather quite yet!

'Well, have fun, you two!' he said as he rose to say goodbye

'I'll have her home by midnight' said Cameron, taking Hope's hand in his

Neal and Sara watched in silence as their baby girl made her way to the door, her hand clasped firmly in Cameron's and Neal put his arm around his wife's shoulder, pulling her close. He heard a small sniffle coming from her direction.

Words weren't necessary and he gave her a small squeeze.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

'So, how's your pasta?' asked Cameron as he looked over the table at his date

'Really good, you?' Hope asked in response

'Delicious' he answered as he looked around the small restaurant. 'This is a really nice place. I'm glad you suggested it'

'It's one of my mom's favorite restaurants... Whenever my mom and dad have a date night, she always tries to coax him to come here'

'Your folks are great, Hope. You know, you're lucky to have parents who care that much about you' he said, obviously thinking of his own family so far away

'Do you miss your folks?' she asked

'Sure. I'm the eldest so it was hard for them to see me leave home. But I really wanted to come to New York and experience the art scene – give myself a chance, you know' he said, his eyes dancing at the thought of the excitement of the big city

Cameron Armstrong had been raised on a farm in upstate New York and had five younger siblings. He'd been drawing and painting his whole life and he knew, at a very young age, that he wanted to experience life fully, embrace all the opportunities that would come his way. His parents did their best to cultivate his passion and had saved up modestly so he could come to New York and study. Cameron had been thrilled when he'd walked into Neal Caffrey's classroom that day several months back and he was thankful that Neal had given him the opportunity to work at the gallery; it was a bonus to be able to display his work and put his name out there. Who knew back then that his mentor had a beautiful daughter and that Cam would develop feelings for her?

'Well, I love your work – especially the last few paintings you did, the ones with country scenes' said Hope

'Those are places back home. You should see, Hope, there are so many open spaces upstate – not at all like New York City' he said, his eyes alight

'Maybe I'll get to visit some day...' she said, looking warmly into his eyes

They took a few bites of their meal in silence before Cameron piped up, on a different topic altogether.

'You sure have a lot of people looking out for you' said Cameron 'I met your uncle Peter the other day'

'Oh no! Don't tell me he warned you to be good to me? He didn't take out his FBI badge, did he?' she asked, laughing

'No... not exactly but he kinda hinted that if I didn't behave myself he'd have the FBI hunt me down and lock me away at Guantanamo Bay' Cam answered, half-joking

'His bark is worse than his bite' said Hope 'I guess everybody's worried about the age difference between us'

Cameron reached over and took Hope's hand in his.

'Look, I don't know where we're headed with this but I really like you Hope and I would never do anything to hurt you' he said with sincerity

Hope just smiled in response as she felt her heart start to flutter.

WCWCWC

The Caffreys lay in bed in their usual pose – Sara's head resting on Neal's chest as he lay back and ran his hand languidly up and down her arm. He turned to gently kiss her forehead and suddenly he was making his 'opening' move; his lips moving down to her neck.

'Whoa, whoa, Caffrey. We're not going there!' she said with authority as she moved to avoid his insistent mouth

'What? The doctor said...' he whined

'Look, seventy two hours ago, you were lying in a bed in the emergency room. Give yourself a few days before you go all Hugh Hefner on me' she said in her no-nonsense way

'Hugh Hefner? Really? Is that how you see me? The guy's practically ninety years old!' Neal bellowed, obviously insulted at the parallel she'd drawn

'Alright, alright... whatever... Calm down! I'm not going anywhere, Neal; I'll be here tomorrow night and the night after that' she said, hoping to appease him

'So, you're saying tomorrow...' he began

'Neal, really! Are you trying to land yourself back in hospital?' she asked

Neal looked at her, miffed. 'I love you and I love your body and I love making love to you. Is there a problem with any of that?'

Sara realized she had somehow hurt his feelings and she retreated, placing a gentle kiss on his pouting lips.

'Neal, I love you, too; I _love_ having your hands and your lips all over me – and I always will. That'll never change but I do have _some_ self-control and I don't want you taking any chances with a relapse so soon after your surgery' she said, searching his eyes

Neal let out a puff of air and tried to snap out of his funk; of course, Sara was right (she usually was) and he could certainly wait a few days just to be on the safe side. He decided to change the subject and try to get the mood back to where it had been a few moments earlier.

'Do you think they're having fun?' he asked

'I'm sure they are. Hope looked beautiful, didn't she? And so grown-up' she said, a twinge of regret in her voice

Neal looked at the clock by their bedside; it read 11:42.

'She should be home soon' he said wistfully

'Do you remember what you were doing at her age? Who was the first girl you were with?' Sara asked, suddenly curious

'You mean actual sex?' Neal asked

'Yeah'

'Ah... it wasn't very memorable. It was a girl named Brenda. She used to hang around the pool hall where I spent way too much time. I was sixteen and I used to skip school to play pool with some older guys. She used to hang around and she started coming on to me. The men I played with were much older and they more or less egged me on' he said, sounding regretful

'Was she older?' asked Sara

'Yeah, she was probably 23-24 – I'm not sure. And we did it in the back room of the pool hall; it was over in less than five minutes – there was no romance involved, just, you know, slam, bam, thank you ma'am'

'Wow! What a romantic!' said Sara sarcastically, comparing what Neal had just described to the loving, sexy man she'd grown to know and love

'Not my finest hour, that's for sure. What about you? You've never told me about your first time' he asked, suddenly curious

'Well, I thought I was in love. His name was Marshall and he was quarterback of the football team. I was seventeen and we did it in the back seat of his car after weeks of buildup. I wanted to but I was scared – I kept thinking, I could never get my virginity back once I gave it away. But I wanted to know what it was like and it was his first time too so we kind of muddled through. I think he only lasted three minutes so don't feel too bad' she said laughing at the memory

The front door could be heard opening in the distance and they both fell silent, listening as Hope came up the stairs as if the sound of her steps would reveal how she was feeling, how her date had gone. There was a soft knock on their bedroom door.

'Mom! Dad!' she whispered

'Come on in, honey' Sara said, without missing a beat

'Hi, did I wake you?' she asked as the door opened and she stood, her silhouette in the moonlight

'No, we were just... talking. Come on in' Neal said as he sat up in bed and turned on the light on the bedside table

She was glowing – that unmistakeable afterglow after a nice goodnight kiss, Sara guessed.

'Did you have a good time?' she asked

'The best. He's the sweetest guy I've ever met' Hope said, her eyes faraway

Neal and Sara exchanged furtive looks. She was _gone _and they were powerless to pull her back in; all they could do now was stand by and watch the show and hope this was a good experience for their daughter.

'Look, I know you two are worried about me – but don't. I'm not a kid anymore and I know that chances are that Cameron and I won't get married and have babies together but for now, I'm really enjoying being with him' she said, sounding so grown up and mature

'We just want you to be happy, Hope, that's all' said Neal, touching her hand

'I am, Daddy. And the best part is... he reminds me of you' she said

Neal looked at his daughter, a smile on his face, realizing that he must have done something right for his little girl to be seeking out someone with the same attributes as himself. He felt his heart swell and he took Hope's hand in his and gave it a kiss.

'I'm happy if you're happy, sweet pea' he said as Hope stood and prepared to go to her room

The door closed again and the couple resumed their pose; Neal's heart fluttering at his daughter's confession.

'That was a very nice compliment' said Sara softly as she pulled Neal close 'And well deserved, Hugh – I mean Neal' she said, trying to break the tension

Neal laughed out loud and hugged her back. Wasn't he the lucky one!

WCWCWC

Sunday morning dawned sunny and bright despite the end of winter's cooler temperatures. Sara had shared the discussion she'd had with Peter regarding the management of the gallery and Neal suggested they have El and Peter over for dinner to discuss some details – see if they could make a go of things.

This time, Sara let him work his magic in the kitchen – her cooking skills might be good enough to feed her hungry family on a weeknight but it wasn't up to snuff when they had company. Neal decided on a roast pork loin, one of Peter's favorites, and he happily got to work getting everything ready for the Burkes' arrival – glad to resume his rightful place as chief cook and bottle washer.

The couples sat in the living room, sharing a glass of wine before dinner and filling each other in on the exciting events of the previous week. El had gotten some of the details from the kids when they'd come over to their place but hearing about the harrowing hour that Sara and Lydia spent trapped in the recovery room was chilling and she sat, listening intently as her best friend shared the details of her ordeal.

Neal joined in with his take on his wife's heroic actions, crediting her with keeping Lydia calm and culminating with the birth of little Beatrice Jordan.

'Well, the Milville boys have been arraigned and when we questioned them, they confessed to having someone on the inside at Sterling Bosch' said Peter, turning to look at Sara

'On the inside? Really?' said Sara, disappointed and surprised. She hoped it wasn't someone from her own team.

'Yeah, they said some intern, name of Joe Morley, gave them some intel as to the best time to hit the place and gave them a floor plan of the recovery room' he added

'You're kidding!' Sara said, horrified at the news 'Bastard!'

Neal looked up in reaction to his wife's use of profanity – she usually tried to keep it in check when the kids were around but she was obviously shocked and very angry at the news.

'The son of a bitch even helped out on the recovery' she said, thinking she was using her inner voice

'Moooom!' Liam called out in rebuke from the nearby kitchen 'You're always freaking out when we talk like that'

'Sorry, honey!' she said, biting her lip 'I'm just shocked... and so pissed off' she continued

She thought of how helpful and unassuming Joe was; always ready to help – the first one to volunteer whenever she needed something done. Well, it was her turn to be helpful; helpful in getting his ass kicked to the curb, that is.

WCWCWC

Dinner was served in the dining room, a very Sunday night occurrence and as usual, the kids disappeared shortly after – Liam heading out to his best friend Will's place to defend his honor as 'Inquisition' champion and Hope to meet Cameron at the local mall to see a movie.

The Caffreys and Burkes sat back, sipping coffee (Neal was back to his beloved Italian roast) and conversation quickly turned to the plans for the gallery.

'Before we get started, El and I would like to run something by you. We've talked about it and if you're open to the idea, we'd like to invest in the Raphaël' Peter said, stopping to let his words sink in

Neal and Sara listened with astonishment – this had never been on the radar but somehow, it made an awful lot of sense.

'The gallery is obviously going to be a huge success' Peter continued 'And by investing, you can reach your breakeven point sooner than you thought. And like Sara suggested, I could work for you at the gallery, take care of the business side of things and free you up to do what you love to do – and what you do best'

'Wow, I don't know what to say' said Neal, looking at Sara

'Of course, we would be silent partners and you would retain control of all creative decisions and if some day, you want to buy me out, we'd just recoup our investment then' continued Peter

'And frankly, guys, Peter needs to get out of the house' Elizabeth said, taking her husband's hand in hers 'He's going nuts staying home – and he's driving _me_ nuts'

Everyone smiled at her comment.

The proposal made a lot of sense; when Neal had dreamed of owning a gallery, he'd imagined himself spending his time seeking out new talent, working on the creative end of things – the image of the gallery, its reputation and having the opportunity to bring great art to the masses. He'd neglected to factor in the tedious side of owning your own establishment – the business side – and frankly it was the one thing that weighed heavily on his mind on a daily basis.

'That sounds like quite an offer' said Sara as she excitedly grabbed for Neal's hand

'Wow – just what I've always wanted' quipped Neal, as he looked at his best friend, reality sinking in '_You_ working for _me_!'

Peter laughed heartily. 'It _is_ kind of poetic justice, isn't it?'

'Can I put an anklet on you?' Neal asked, his face serious

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Sara arrived at Sterling Bosch on Monday morning, preparing to take the two week leave of absence her bosses had grudgingly agreed to give her. She had important business to attend to before absconding, not the least of which was dealing with Joe Morley, once and for all. She wanted to meet with her team one last time before she disappeared for a fortnight and she was looking forward to bringing the intern down a peg, in front of her whole team. Sara wasn't usually vindictive and she always showed the members of her team the respect they deserved; but this guy had put her life and the life of her best investigator at risk, to say nothing of a poor, innocent baby, and she was relishing the opportunity to fire Joe Morley's ass in front of a captive audience.

She was on her way up to the 38th floor conference room when a soft knock was heard on her office door. She looked up to see Leroy Winston, standing there, his left arm in a sling.

'Leroy!' she said as she stood to greet him

'Ms Ellis, sorry to bother you' he said, quietly

'Don't be silly, come in' she said, making her way to where he stood and taking his good arm 'I'm so glad to see you. How are you feeling?'

'Lucky to be alive' he answered with a smile 'I wanted to apologize for the other night...'

'Apologize? For what? You did everything you could, Leroy. You sounded the alarm right away; I'm the one who's sorry – if it hadn't been for my request for you to stay late, you wouldn't have been hurt'

'No worries – I offered to stay and I'd do it all over again if I could' he said

'Well, I'm just relieved that you're okay and already back at work. Did Rose agree to this or are you here against her wishes?' she said, joking

'She told me she'd met you and...' he said, winking 'she said you were kind _and _beautiful and that she hoped you would keep your mitts off me!'

Sara laughed heartily. 'It's going to be tough but, tell her, I promise to try'

They walked out together, Leroy going back to his office and Sara riding the elevator up to the 38th floor. She stepped off and hesitated for a moment as she took the first few tentative steps. She hadn't been there since the week before and she walked by the entrance to the recovery room glancing nervously, nodding to the security guard on duty. She walked through the waiting area, staring at the spot where Neal had collapsed and she shook off the nervousness, walking into the conference room which had acted as a delivery room for Lydia Jordan that night.

The staff was assembled and everyone hushed as Sara took her place at the head of the table. These weekly meetings were meant as an opportunity to discuss upcoming recoveries, the past week's events and any upcoming issues staff might have concerns about. She noticed Joe Morley, looking tanned and relaxed, sitting between two of Sara's female investigators, obviously flirting and being his phony, smarmy self.

She called the meeting to order, asking if there were any additions to the agenda and proceeded with the first item which was a review of the events of the botched up theft. She assured everyone that Lydia and her daughter were doing well and she turned her attention to Joe Morley who was grinning from ear to ear, waiting for the praise he was about to get for helping out on the recovery.

'And of course, I want to mention Joe Morley's part in all this' she continued as everyone turned to look at the young man, smiling away, totally oblivious to what was about to happen

'Joe was instrumental in providing the thieves with very confidential information which enabled them to target Sterling Bosch in the first place' she said as his smile melted and a frown appeared on his face

'He single-handedly put Lydia and myself in danger and is responsible for the events that led to the shooting of our head of security, Leroy Winston' she continued

The attendees gasped as Sara spoke and there began to be some chattering here and there as everyone reacted to Sara's news. Joe Morley opened his mouth to speak but Sara didn't give him a chance.

'Needless to say, your services are no longer required at Sterling Bosch' she said as she stood and signaled for the security guard who had made his way to the door of the conference room.

'Please go with security. You have five minutes to pack up your personal belongings and leave the building. Criminal charges have been laid so please expect a visit from your local men in blue' she concluded as she waited for the man to leave

He scrambled to his feet, shell shocked as everyone jeered him and he made his way to the door where security was waiting to greet him. He left, as everyone applauded Sara who took the few seconds of spontaneous cheering to collect herself. Without missing a beat, and in her customary refined way, Sara took her seat and spoke.

'Now, for the next item on our agenda'

WCWCWC

Once she had carried out the firing, Sara felt liberated and she put in a most productive day at the office – a workday cut short as she left mid-afternoon to greet her sister who was arriving at JFK. She'd seen her at Christmas and Emily had stayed on throughout most of January but she was still excited to have her back so soon for another visit. They had been apart for so long – over 35 years – and it seemed unreal that they had finally been reunited; they had a lot to make up for. Sara thought of all the times she'd pushed Neal away when he'd suggested searching for her; she could have had so many more years with Emily if she hadn't been so stubborn.

She spotted her older sister coming towards her – very similar in looks to herself. Emily was five years her senior, a tad taller but she had the same slim build and coloring as Sara. They hugged warmly, thrilled to be reunited and made their way back to White Plains for dinner and a reunion with Emily's new extended family. She insisted on staying at a hotel despite Sara and Neal's urging that she stay with them; their place _was_ pretty small to accommodate sleepover guests and the evening was spent discussing the events of the last few weeks.

Neal enjoyed his sister-in-law's company. She was cultured and well-read and could hold her own in any discussion on art and culture. She was also an accomplished artist herself and when they had finally met up just before the holidays, Neal and Sara had discovered that her style was very similar to her niece's and Neal had insisted they display some of her works alongside his and Hope's on the second floor of the gallery.

After dinner and a whole lot of chatter, Neal stood from the table and returned a few seconds later with a cheque in his hand.

'Your first commission' he said as he handed it over to Emily 'We sold two of your paintings already'

Emily smiled as she took the cheque from her brother-in-law and immediately turned to face her sister.

'Here's a donation for the gallery' she said as she handed it back

'Emily, no! You earned that' said Sara

'And I can do what I want with it' she said, taking Sara's hand and placing the cheque in it

'Thank you' Sara said, realizing it wasn't going to do any good to argue. If anything, Emily was even more pig-headed than her baby sister.

'So, tell me. How can I help?' Emily asked

'Well, I don't want Neal spending twelve hours a day at the gallery...' Sara began

'...although I am going back tomorrow...' Neal interrupted

'...for a few hours...' Sara continued

They were hilarious together, thought Emily, enjoying their now familiar banter. She envied them their easy repartee, their way of teasing each other and the obvious love and respect between them.

'So, what – manning the store, would that help?' she asked

'Yeah, I've taken a couple of weeks off and Neal and I are going to work together, hiring a couple of new people and Peter is going to get to work on the books which we've fallen behind on. If you could help man the place until we get all the pieces of the puzzle in place, that would be great'

'Whatever I can do to help' she said 'I'm yours for the week'

Neal looked at the Ellis sisters and smiled – they were so alike in that way, both 'take charge' kind of women who weren't afraid of anything. He was lucky to have Sara watching his back and he hoped she felt the same way about him.

WCWCWC

The rest of the week was a study in contrasts from the excitement of the week before. Neal started spending short periods of time at the gallery, barking orders at his underlings and keeping things organized. Peter got to work on the company's books, setting up the necessary tools to monitor their finances properly, Cameron worked whenever he wasn't in class and Emily was in and out as she picked up the slack at the gallery. Hope spent most of her free time at the store 'helping out' although, coincidentally, she always seemed to show up when Cam was on the roster.

On Tuesday night, Neal resumed teaching, noticing his energy returning, so glad to be back to his routine – this time he didn't have to run from the gallery to the university and he arrived in class calm and collected to greet his students. Wednesday night, Sara lifted the moratorium on bedroom activities and Neal fell asleep with a smile on his face. By the end of the week, Sara and Neal had hired two more of Neal's students to help out at the gallery, one of whom agreed to pick up Neal's Thursday night art appreciation classes. Except for Tuesday nights, the Caffreys agreed that Neal would be home for dinner every single night and Neal was committed to keeping his word.

Friday afternoon, Sara called her boss to let him know that she would return a week earlier than expected and she won brownie points for that; she had handled herself so well throughout the course of recent events that she was in their good books.

The week was also the big buildup to Hope's birthday party and Hope and Cam shopped together on Friday night to get all the necessary supplies for the shindig. After a long discussion about house rules, Neal and Sara had finally agreed to vacate the house until midnight, giving the kids some privacy. The issue of alcohol was thrashed out and the consensus was that none would be served although Hope knew some friends would bring their own; Cam agreed to act as bouncer and Neal was happy with that compromise, his trust in Cameron growing daily as the young man began to hang around the house more often.

Emily returned to Chicago on Saturday afternoon and Neal and Sara made their way home to get ready for their evening out. Coincidentally, Sam and Lydia had invited them over for dinner and Sara looked forward to seeing little Bea (as her mom had already nicknamed her) and how much she'd grown in the week since she'd last seen her.

'Mom?' said Hope as she stuck her head in her parents' bedroom

Sara turned to face her daughter. 'Hey, how are things going? Ready for the big party?'

'Yeah, Cam's just putting the drinks on ice' answered Hope

'Well...' said Sara, putting her hands on her daughter's shoulders and looking her in the eye '... I hope you have a wonderful time, honey. Daddy and I are really proud of you'

'Thanks Mom. And thanks for trusting me with this; I promise that the house will still be standing when you get home'

Sara laughed a little nervously.

'Well, Liam's over at Will's for the night so you're on your own. Call Daddy's cell if there's any problem and we'll come home early; otherwise, we'll be back by one o'clock'

'But Dad said midnight' Hope said, her blue eyes bright

Sara shrugged. 'Seems a bit early for kids your age; let me take care of your dad'

The women hugged, Sara feeling herself tear up and before it became obvious, she pulled away to collect herself 'Happy birthday, Hope!' she said

WCWCWC

'She is beautiful' cooed Neal as he gazed at the sleeping infant in his arms

Neal had always loved babies; he loved the way they melted, boneless, in his arms, the sweet smell of them and those little smiles that appeared unbidden as they slept peacefully, without a care in the world. The proud poppa looked on with a goofy grin and Neal remembered that feeling of not being able to stop smiling when Hope and Liam were this little.

'She's really a good sleeper' said Lydia 'She goes a good five hours between feedings'

Sara turned to face her friend, noting how calm and composed she looked; for a new mom, Lydia was doing great, especially considering the turbulent events that had led to her daughter's birth.

'Sam and I have something to ask you two' she added as she glanced nervously at her husband

'Ask away' Neal said, in a baby voice, his eyes still riveted on little Beatrice

'Well, we don't have any family here' continued Sam 'and you've been such good friends to us... we wondered if you would agree to be Beatrice's godparents'

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment and Neal raised his eyes to look at Sara, noting the same look of joy and delight he was feeling.

'Wow! That is quite a privilege' said Neal

'... and a big responsibility' added Lydia 'If you need time to think about it...'

Neal and Sara continued looking at each other and both spoke simultaneously 'No!'

All four of them laughed at the spontaneity and intensity of their single word response.

'It would be an honor!' said Sara, her voice shaky as she touched the baby's hand lightly

'We're having the christening in a couple of weeks and just so you know, her christened name will be Beatrice Sara Jordan' added Sam

Sara let out a gasp which turned into a small sob and Neal put an arm around his wife to steady her. Sara fleetingly recalled how Elizabeth had reacted the very same way when she and Neal had announced to all that Hope would be carrying_ her _name; the feeling was magical, that sense that you would be tied to this living breathing person for the rest of your life.

'Lydia, I can't...' she tried to finish but Neal picked up the slack: 'It's a wonderful honor, guys, thanks!'

The couples spent the rest of the evening talking about plans for the gallery, the wonderful 'baby and me' playgroup Lydia had enrolled in and sundry other topics, never running out of subject matter. Neal continued to glance at his phone from time to time, making sure he hadn't missed any calls or texts from Hope and shortly after eleven o'clock, it became obvious that the new parents needed to get to bed so they could face another day with their little one.

'Do you believe it, Neal? We're going to be godparents!' said Sara as they drove away

'Yeah, she _is_ beautiful, isn't she?' he repeated; he'd been cooing at the baby all night

'You're such a sucker for newborns' Sara said, giving her husband a gentle shove

Neal shrugged, slightly embarrassed. He crossed the bridge towards home and was well on his way to their neighborhood when Sara finally spoke up.

'Let's stop somewhere for coffee before we go home' she said, casually

'What? But we told Hope we'd be home by midnight' said Neal

Sara just sat in awkward silence.

'What did you _do_?' Neal finally asked, realizing Sara wasn't being completely honest

'Well... I kind of told Hope we'd give them until one o'clock' she grudgingly admitted

'Sara! Why didn't you discuss it with me – or at least _tell_ me' Neal said, miffed

'I'm sorry! It just kind of happened; we were talking and I just made an executive decision' she said, her voice growing smaller

'An executive decision?' Neal repeated, laughing 'Alright, coffee it is'

WCWCWC

By the time the Caffreys pulled into their driveway, the house was quiet and mostly dark. It was a few minutes past one and they were tired, Neal still not completely back to his old self, energy-wise. They walked up to the front door, hand in hand, still glowing at the news the Jordans had shared with them. They stepped into the house and followed the only light that was on, at the back of the house. The place was quiet, no one around and everything was just as they'd left it, furniture in its place, no obvious sign that a party had just ended.

They found Hope and Cameron on the couch in the family room, Hope's head against his chest, Cam's arm around her as she snoozed gently. Cameron looked up as they walked in, bringing his finger to his lips in a gentle request for quiet.

'I see our girl is all tuckered out' whispered Neal

'Yeah, everyone left shortly after midnight and she's been running around cleaning up and putting everything back' he murmured quietly

Hope continued to doze, letting out a most unfeminine snort and Cameron laughed softly. In that moment, Neal and Sara realized that they did not have exclusive rights to their daughter's heart – others would love her just as much as they did throughout her life and that sudden realization was surprisingly bittersweet.

La fin


End file.
